Fractured

by T. C. Edge

  "To...gather supplies," he says. "And bring them to Olympus..."

  "And the village?" Ares asks. "Why burn it?"

  "Burn the...the rest, they said," quivers his voice. "Those were...our orders."

  Ares looks to Max. It's just as they said.

  "This is happening all across the Fringe?" Ares asks steadily.

  The soldier nods again. "Everywhere," he whispers. "We're...gathering supplies for..."

  "How long has it been going on?" Ares cuts in.

  "A...a day or two, that's all. Please...please don't kill me."

  "Kill you? You'd have to be alive first, soldier." Ares says. "No one truly lives on these lands."

  The man looks up, frowning in fear.

  "You are a pawn in a game, young man," Ares continues. "The Prime has control over you all. Your life will not be your own until those controls are cut..."

  "Infidels!" grunts one of the other soldiers, older than the other two. His head, bent low until now, suddenly lifts up, eyes turning upon Ares and the Neoroman soldiers standing nearby. "You dare speak of the Prime! You, faithless!" He spits right at the ground, the salivary projectile splashing into Ares's boot.

  Max reacts immediately, lifting the soldier into the air with his telekinesis, squeezing him so tight his words cannot form. I watch as the soldier's eyes bulge, the whites going red as capillaries burst and rupture. Paralysed, and held in mid air a couple of metres off the ground, Ares stares at him, right in the eye.

  "You think your rulers, even yourselves, divine?" he says darkly. "Oh, how wrong you are, my friend. How blind you have all been."

  The man stares, his eyes all but bleeding. With a nod from Ares, Max releases him, dropping him back to the ground. He hits with a crunch, his lungs bursting open again and hauling in air in gasping, desperate breaths.

  "We are here to kill your Prime," Ares says, watching the soldier, and his comrades closely. "They are devils, not gods. And if you oppose us, you will join them."

  The man, still gasping, manages to steady himself. Those breaths turn from gasps to fill his lungs, to those of anger, burning within him. He looks up once more, his reddened eyes wild. And in a sudden burst, he rushes forwards, hands still tied, gnashing his teeth as he pours towards the Neoroman Commander.

  His neck snaps before he even gets there.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Max turning his wrist, breaking the man's neck from where he stands. A flick of the wrist is all it takes for him to kill a man from several metres away, the soldier tumbling to the floor in a heap, right at Ares's feet.

  Ares looks up and meets Max's gaze. "He was a prisoner, Maximus. You shouldn't have done that."

  "He was too far gone, Ares," Max says, standing by his decision. "We cannot liberate the minds of every soldier if they're that entrenched in their beliefs."

  Ares slowly looks down to the other two. "And you two?" he asks. "How do you feel when I speak of our purpose. When I speak of killing the Prime."

  He watches the two men closely. We have heard from Secretary Burns how Amber reacted. We know how Elian responded, too, when Amber told him of our purpose, almost strangling the poor girl to death. The question is, are only those who have met, and spent time in the presence of the Prime, as they have, affected in such a way? Or, as seems to be the case, are all soldiers within the army armed with this same conditioned response, turning wild and vengeful when their Mother and Father are threatened?

  I watch, as the others do now, as the two remaining soldiers hold their eyes down. I sense them stiffen, and focus on their internal, instinctive responses. Both of their heart rates rise significantly. Their stress levels spike as well, sweat quickly beading on their brows, their breathing becoming more rapid.

  And yet, they manage to just about stay in control, holding themselves together as they stare right at the floor. Knowing, it seems, that any reaction as their ally gave will lead to their immediate deaths.

  "Interesting," Ares says, looking down at them. He, like me, can sense their internal reactions. "It is perhaps more widespread than we thought," he goes on. "It's possible that all within Olympus are afflicted by these same controls, though to different degrees."

  "This one looks older," Max says, looking to the man whose neck he just broke. "Time might have deepened his conditioning."

  "Perhaps," says Ares. "Or maybe he is senior, of a higher rank..."

  "He...he is," says the soldier who originally spoke. "He is our captain here."

  "And you two?" Ares asks. "Have you met the Prime before?"

  They glance at one another, and shake their heads. "Never. We are not worthy."

  "And him?" Max asks, looking at the dead captain.

  "No, never," the man goes on, voice shivering. "So few have the honour. Few beyond the Heralds and Chosen are ever invited up the Sacred Steps."

  "What do you want to do with them, Commander?" asks Max. "We cannot take them with us."

  "No, we cannot," Ares says. "Nor do we wish for them to return to Olympus." He strokes his chin, considering what to do. His eyes turn to the burning village nearby. I see that a number of the local people are working to put out the flames. A small crowd has also gathered to watch us from the edge of town. "We'll have to leave them here," Ares finishes. "We shall leave them under the charge of the local people."

  "They...they'll kill us," one of the soldier's says.

  "If that is your path," Ares announces, "then so be it." He turns to Max once more. "Maximus, take Cassius and Antonius and see if you can lend a hand to the people. Killian, take the rest of our men and see that those supplies are returned to the village and stored somewhere safe. Lend help wherever you can and see that the injured are tended."

  He nods and the soldiers rush off to perform their duties. I stand my ground, alone now with Ares and the two captives.

  "We can't stay long, Ares," I say, quite aware that the convoy will be progressing at speed. "We need to stay in pursuit."

  "Yes, Kira," he says. "But I fear we will encounter more of the same as we head north. It will be hard to pass by and not offer what help we can."

  "We have five hundred soldiers right behind us, Commander," I say. "And many more following. They can help when they arrive. There isn't much we can do. And I...I need to find a way to speak with Zander. That should be our priority. I could feel the connection strengthening while we followed, but...I don't know how far it will stretch."

  "And nor do we know of the precise layout of the city," Ares states. "We can't be sure, yet, whether you'll be able to even get within range..."

  "And that's why we need to go," I say, speaking quickly and with an urgent determination. "We have two jeeps. Let me go ahead. The others can stay back and wait for the advance force to arrive. They can't be too far behind."

  "If you think I would let you leave on your own, Kira, you have another thing coming. The Emperor would never forgive me if something were to happen to you. It is out of the question that you'd attempt this without support."

  "I'm not saying I'd go alone. I'm just saying that we shouldn't wait long."

  Ares steps away from the two soldiers, drawing me off to one side. He scans ahead, his neck slowly swivelling, as if capable of analysing everything in the distance for quite some way. Then he turns and looks upon the village. By the looks of things, there are a number of wounded now being seen to. It isn't a job that's going to be quick.

  "You may be right, Kira," he says eventually. "I promised Emperor Domitian that I would keep you out of harm's way, and that is what I'm going to do. If you are absolutely intent on continuing on, right now, then I will need to come with you. I will leave Maximus here in charge."

  "We'll need a driver," I say quickly. "We could go on foot, but we'd burn out too quickly. Well, I would, at least."

  Ares nods. "Killian has served us well so far. He will do."

  "So..."

  He nods. "We shall proceed," he says. "Stay here a moment. I won't be long."

/>   With that, he speeds off towards the village to update the others on his plans. I see him speaking with Max, who doesn't appear best pleased to be left behind. He has grown quite keen on the idea of seeing Olympus up close. He'll get his chance soon, I'm sure.

  A minute or so later, he returns from the village with Killian by his side. Stopping at the soldiers, I watch as Ares lifts the more vocal one to his feet, drawing him along with him by the shackles around his wrists. The other watches on, frightened and now alone, as Max arrives to take him to the village for safe keeping.

  "This one may prove useful," Ares says as he steps towards me. "What is your name, son?"

  "It's...Jared, sir,' trembles the young man.

  "Right, Jared, you're to be our guide. Answer what questions we have and we may spare you."

  The soldier dips his eyes into a frightened nod.

  We move back towards the jeeps, Killian, with his flowing black hair, rushing ahead to start the engine. We meet halfway as he drives down the slope towards us, Ares opening the rear door and pressing Jared inside, before climbing in beside him. "Take the front seat, Kira," he says. "I'll keep our new friend company, don't worry."

  As we set off, Ares quickly enters into a short interrogation of the man to clear a few things up.

  "How far is Olympus from here?" he asks, looming over Jared in the seats behind me.

  "It's, um...a few hundred miles...sir," the soldier says.

  "A few hundred miles," Ares repeats slowly. "A few hundred miles. Well, that could mean anything, couldn't it, soldier? I need you to be precise. If I sense you're being purposefully vague," he says quietly, leaning in, "then I will open the door and kick you from this car, and have Kira here hunt you down if your body isn't too broken to try to flee. Oh, don't be deceived by her striking appearance, boy. She is as vicious a hunter as you could be unfortunate enough to meet. Quick and silent enough to elude even death itself..."

  The man glances up towards me, his eyes cloaked in fear as Ares whispers the words into his ear. I do my part, putting on a fearsome expression, narrowing my eyes as I stare at him, unblinking. Only when the young soldier turns his gaze down does my mouth crack into a smile.

  With a muted grin of his own, Ares draws back up, the threat plenty to have the man complying with his questions.

  "So, we'll try again," he says. "How far is Olympus from here?"

  "About two hundred miles," the soldier says, quick and clear in his answer this time. "Perhaps a...a bit more," he adds, eyes shifting nervously. "I don't know exactly. Um, maybe two hundred and ten, or even twenty, miles. I haven't been posted here long."

  "No, I think that is evident," says Ares. "You appear to be straight out of the academy."

  "Y-Yes, sir. I am."

  "Quite the baptism of fire, then, isn't it," Ares muses. He lifts a hand to stroke his chin. "Two hundred or so miles," he says. "How long will that take, Killian?"

  "Depends on the track, Commander," says Killian from behind the wheel. "The way we've been going, let's say four or five hours."

  "Yes, yes, that sounds about right," says the soldier.

  "Did I speak to you, boy?" asks Ares, stretching out his enormously wide back as he turns to the young man.

  "I...no," whispers Jared, his entire body seeming to shrink in size. "I just...I'm trying to help."

  "You're trying to save your life," Ares says, correcting him. "And you will have it, so long as you provide us with what we need. You...know these lands well, I assume?"

  Jared nods quickly. "Well, not the Fringe so well, sir," he says. "But, um...yes, I know Olympus. I trained there for years, in the Phaser academies."

  "Phasers, yes. That is your only gift? Speed?"

  The man nods. "We were a troop of Phasers," he whispers. "Those...those men you killed."

  "Friends of yours, Jared?" Ares asks, a little more softly.

  "A...a few," he whispers.

  Ares lifts a large paw, and places it down upon the man's wiry shoulder. He shudders momentarily under the contact, looking through hooded eyes into Ares's scarred, tanned, and heavily bristled face.

  "I am sorry we killed your friends," Ares says. "We are not here to do so wantonly. That is not our intention."

  "I..."

  "Now," Ares goes on, "I understand you are in a difficult situation, but there's no need for you to worry. We merely wish to get close to your city right now. We have no intention of hurting anyone, especially not innocents. Do you have family in Olympus?"

  He nods. "A mother, and a sister," he says.

  "And they are civilians?"

  "Yes."

  "Then they shall be safe," Ares says. "Know that the citizens of Olympus will not be targeted. It may be hard for you to believe right now, but we are, in may ways, here to help them."

  Jared's eyes shift to the side, evidently confused.

  I keep an eye on the conversation, while turning to scan the lands ahead. Killian, being a highly gifted Hawk, is an ideal person to have behind the wheel. His vision may even be better than mine, or even Ares's. I've heard it said that he can see so far that he can almost look into the future, anticipating danger with such effectiveness that he's almost impossible to hit in a gunfight. It gives me confidence having someone like him watching for danger, freeing my own eyes up a little to wander. And as they do, I spot other swirls of smoke in the distance, other supplies dotted around town and villages, being destroyed to weaken our army's impending arrival.

  "How long have you known we were coming?" I ask, turning around and butting into the conversation behind me.

  Jared's eyes, still ever cloaked with a nice fair split of nerves and intimidation, turn to me.

  "Go ahead," Ares says. "Answer her."

  "I...I don't know," he tells me, shrinking as he says it as though expecting a beating in return.

  "You said you've been gathering supplies for a couple of days," I go on. "So, you must have known for a bit."

  "Those orders just...came through," he says. "I was stationed at a fort near here. I don't know much. I just do what I'm told."

  I look to Ares, who's perhaps wondering why I'm asking. "I'm just thinking about what you said before," I say to him. "About the Prime and foresight, and all that. I wonder if they knew we were coming this way."

  "Could be anything, Kira," Ares says. "It's possible that they still don't even know that we are on our way."

  "But..."

  "Kovas will have sent runners back to inform the city of their failure, and impending return," Ares explains. "That may have led to the response we are seeing, if they considered it likely that we would look to stage a swift invasion of our own. The hoarding of supplies is an obvious strategy for any city under siege. Burning the remainder isn't unheard of either. It will leave us without additional supplies should the provisions we bring run out."

  "And lead to starvation among their subjects," I grunt. "I think we're seeing first hand just how the Prime chooses to rule."

  "Indeed we are," nods Ares. "I imagine that the people of the Fringe are considered expendable, at least in part. They evidently believe that they can hide behind their walls and outlast us. Clearly, they have no experience of Neoromans."

  "That's...where you're from?" whispers Jared, a flutter of curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Neorome?"

  "Yes," says Ares. "We are from Neorome. Have you ever met a Neoroman before, boy?"

  The man shakes his head. "I've never left the Fringe," he says.

  "Of course you haven't. And no Neoroman has ever come here, so how would you have encountered us?" He lifts a smile. "Tell us, Jared, of the Sacred Plains around the city itself. I have been told that they are vast, and often shrouded in a thick, golden mist. Can you confirm that for us?"

  "Y-yes, that's true. It's our Skymasters who create the mist. They are posted at stations, and..." He stops, perhaps not wishing to give too much away. Hoping, most likely, that he could lead us directly into one of these stations, where his fellow
soldiers might spring a trap.

  If he thinks that's possible, then he hasn't been paying attention.

  "I know of the Skymasters posted around the Sacred Plains, Jared," says Ares calmly. "I know much of what you're gong to tell me, in fact. You forget, we have been at war with your fellow Olympians for weeks now. You are not the first of your people we have captured and interrogated. Speak plainly, and truthfully. There is no need to hide anything from us."

  Jared dips his head into a nod, his nerves holding, though fading just a little. "The mists...come and go," he says. "They are intended to help conceal the city, but...if an army were to approach, then the Skymasters would be ordered to let the skies clear."

  "To make our approach more obvious," nods Ares. "And is the city difficult to find under the cover of this mist?"

  "It...could be," Jared says. "If you don't already know it's there, maybe. The Sacred Plains cover a large area, but the city is very large. It isn't hard to find if you're searching for it."

  "Or if we have a prisoner who knows where it is," I say from the front seat. "You'll take us right there, won't you, Jared?"

  He glances up at me with a nod.

  "Good," says Ares. "And you mentioned how you were stationed at a fort nearby. Are there many of these forts around here?"

  "Some, yes," the timid soldier says. "They are positioned mainly along the border of the Fringe, and sometimes a little further back into the centre. They're used to house patrol troops, and for training. Some are abandoned now."

  "I see." His eyes flick to me. "Might make a good base of operations for when our people arrive."

  I nod, thinking the same thing. My impression of these lands is that there should be plenty of options to set up a long term military encampment. A decent sized town will certainly do, and a military fort will do even better. Given the overall flatness of the surrounding landscape, any incoming attack will be easy to spot, should the enemy decide to do so.

  Right now, given what we've seen, they appear to be planning for a prolonged siege instead.

  "And what about other towns and villages?" Ares goes on, ever to learn as much as he can about the surrounding area. "Are there many from here to the Sacred Plains?"