The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy

by Terra Whiteman

  “You’re defending a monster that’s committed four counts of genocide across the Multiverse. We’ll be back. That’s a promise.”

  Oran only smiled, saluting his departure with a dainty wave.

  Within seconds he, too, was gone.

  And then the silence was crushing.

  I waited with baited breath for a fallout, but the silence kept on. Oran lowered her head and sighed blissfully—the first noise to happen other than the shorting command board—and then vanished. Our eyes couldn’t follow her phase shift, but she was definitely somewhere nearby. I could still feel her; so could Adrial.

  Adrial.

  “You motherfucker,” he snarled, advancing on me. I took notice that he hadn’t retracted his scythe. “You selfish, lying snake!”

  I held my hands up, retreating. I wasn’t as afraid as I probably should have been. “Wait, listen.”

  “The statue was never destroyed, was it?”

  “Yeah, it was, but she got infected again before that. I didn’t know back then. Couldn’t remember shit and no one told me anything, right?”

  Adrial’s anger waned, but only a little. He stopped coming at me, though. “You’ve had full cognition for a while, and you never said anything. Not one thing to anyone.” He glanced away, clenching his jaw. “Neither did Leid.”

  “I told her not to,” I said, trying to redirect the blame. “She wanted to go back to Exo’daius and—”

  “You’re not helping your case.”

  “There’s a chance expiration can be treated. If Leid went back to Exo’daius, there’d be no way of knowing that for sure. I’m trying to save her, Adrial. Don’t you want to see her live?”

  Adrial grimaced, confused. “A treatment for expiration? What treatment?”

  The cat was out of the bag. Oh well; better than getting flayed alive. “It’s a long story. Talk to Yahweh later. The point is—”

  “The point is that you have harbored a multiversal serial killer in the body of an expiring noble. What do you think will happen once Leid expires?”

  All I did was look away. I couldn’t argue with Adrial. We were pretty fucked on all fronts right now.

  Instead of the preceding coma, Oraniquitis Loren took over her body. Leid was asleep and Oraniquitis was in the driver’s seat for the foreseeable future. I had no idea what this meant for the angels’s war. Oraniquitis probably had little interest in defending the Argentia Nation. The fact that she’d even diffused the situation with the Silver King so diplomatically confused the hell out of me. Why didn’t she just nuke everything? From what everyone had said, she was psychotic and savage. I’d seen it once before, but not this time.

  Why?

  However I couldn’t ignore the fact that without Oraniquitis, things might have gone a lot differently here. She’d saved us, in a sense, and that was as alarming as it was incredible.

  As guards began filtering inside, their guns drawn, demanding to know whether or not we were okay and if the coast was clear, Adrial gave me one final look.

  “When the multiverse collapses—taking with it this world and everyone on it—I can only hope you stay alive just long enough to acknowledge your hand in all of this.”

  That stung.

  I tried to keep my face even but I felt pressure between my eyes as fury bled from them. Fuck him, self-righteous cunt. Those were things I wanted to say, but for whatever reason didn’t. Instead I watched him leave the room.

  In his place was Yahweh now, watching the commotion in the navigation room from the threshold, a look of worry and pain etched across his face. Our eyes met, and I knew a difficult conversation was in store for me in the near future.

  This fucking day just kept getting worse.

  V

  PENSIVE FLOW

  Lucifer Raith—;

  “FORCES HAVE AMASSED AROUND THE MOUTH and altar of Anevhin Cataract. They await our command.”

  I gave her a musing look, tapping my fingers on the table. “And this time we’re sure the Cataract is the only feasible passage through the Tehlor-Orias borderlands?”

  Samnaea bowed her head. “The cartographers have confirmed it.”

  “Good. What of the assault teams around Tehlor?”

  “On standby.”

  I paused, and she said nothing else. Samnaea was trying her very best to keep eye contact, but she broke away here and there, glancing at the table instead. She was cross with me.

  Of course she’d never say it, I was the Commander of Hell after all, but speech was unnecessary. I’d taken a lot of time to practice reading body language. Any (good) leader had a talent of reading unspoken words that lingered in a subject’s eyes. The quiver of their lips, the tremors in their hands, the direction in which they glance—all important signals that shouldn’t be ignored. Body language told me everything about a person. Character, especially.

  Samnaea’s unhappiness bothered me. You couldn’t please everyone, but she wasn’t everyone. There was a lot of history between us, and I’d spent most of my career trying to glue all her broken pieces back together. With some success.

  “Praetor Delvori is in stable condition,” I began, baiting her. “With some rest, I think she’ll be ready to lead the battalion at the Anevhin Cataract.”

  Samnaea’s eyes widened slightly. “Isn’t that a little soon?”

  “Not for her. She’s not like us.”

  “You don’t have to remind me. I don’t think she should lead the fleet at the Cataract.”

  I lifted a brow. “Avarice Delvori was crafted to lead wars, and yet you don’t think she should lead this war. Explain.”

  Samnaea glanced away, fighting a response. After a moment, she said, “Your project is defective, Commander.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “Defective. Avarice Delvori isn’t a leader. She’s a little machine in heavy armor, fueled on revenge. You injected her with too much Patient Zero. She may as well be his next of kin, from what I can remember of him. It’s only a matter of time before she goes rogue completely.”

  I sighed, rising from my seat. Samnaea always had a way of putting me on edge, forcing me to pace. “I think you’re blowing things out of proportion. Why would Praetor Delvori ‘go rogue’? I can’t really see her aligning with the angels, can you?”

  “Not with the angels, no. That’s not what I meant. She’s already deviated from your command and ended up failing her mission and killing a scholar. A scholar. The last thing we need is the Court of Enigmus investigating us. Giving her those tranquilizers was a terrible idea.”

  “If I recall correctly, you’ve deviated from my command recently as well. In fact, I’ve never had to clean up a bigger mess than yours. Should I toss you out like garbage, too?”

  Samnaea’s somber gaze hardened into one of insult. She reached into her coat and produced a malay cigarette, already fitted inside a silver holder. She lit it, and then took a long drag. “Fine, whatever. Nothing I say ever holds any weight with you. I don’t know why you even bothered to name me General. It’s clear I can never live up to Samael’s legacy.”

  Smoke slithered from her lips as she spoke, framing her head like a violet halo. I was drawn to the goldness of her eyes and the shimmer of her cheeks. Her lips were painted rose red, pulled into a frown. For a reason I couldn’t explain, Samnaea’s shifting level of beauty was directly correlated with her level of anger.

  Beautiful and furious; a perfect recipe for disaster.

  “This has nothing to do with your brother. He also deviated from my command. In fact, let’s be honest here; the entire Obsidian Court has betrayed me.”

  I had surprised her. With far less chagrin, she asked, “And what of Golheim?”

  “There was no choice. Ava was right, only we couldn’t say it.”

  I heard her exhale slowly. Samnaea hung her head, and her icy hair slid across her shoulders like silk. “I wasn’t ready for this. I thought I was, but…”

  “Do you want out?”

 
; She looked at me, abashed. “What?”

  “I’m giving you the option of stepping down. If you don’t think you can do this, I won’t force you. I’m not in the business of forcing anyone to do anything against their will. I thought this was what you wanted, I’m sorry.”

  “I just want to be taken seriously.”

  “You are taken seriously,” I said with a hint of annoyance, “but I won’t heed your advice without a challenge. You have a beautiful heart, Samnaea. It’s a little… reckless at times, but beautiful nonetheless. And naïve. Samael was my general because he was an excellent strategist, capable of predicting criminal activity and noticing its patterns. You’re my general because you’re as dedicated to Hell as I am. In that way, there is no one else like you.”

  Samnaea cast her eyes to the ground.

  There it was. I was officially forgiven.

  She moved to the long, vertical window adjacent mine, crossing her arms and leaning against the sill. “Fifty Primers guard Abraxes. We have another fifty on sentry at Yjorgiva Hall. What shall we do with them?”

  “That’s up to Praetor Delvori. I’ll arrange for you two to meet once she’s back on her feet.” Samnaea gave me a feeble nod, and I headed for the conference room exit. “Are you going to the tower, by chance?”

  “In a while, yes,” she said. “I have a briefing with Central Command. Why?”

  “Stop by the hangar and find Admiral Behrem. Ask him to recalibrate.”

  When I said no more, she looked confused. “Recalibrate what?”

  “Just recalibrate. He’ll know what I mean.”

  “But I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Have a good night.”

  I heard her mutter something as the door closed.

  *

  It took me only fifteen minutes to return to the residential sector—not to sleep, but to drink and strategize—and in that time, Samnaea had somehow already relayed my message to Admiral Behrem.

  I knew this because Calenus Karim was waiting for me on my couch. It might have been funny if he hadn’t startled me, not to mention his face was injured. There was a bruise forming over the right side of his jaw, only visible in proper light.

  Once calm, I hung my jacket on the wall. “That was quick.”

  “I was in the neighborhood.”

  “So I heard.”

  Calenus’s gaze sharpened. “You calibrated our sigil. Why?”

  “I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  I headed for the small in-unit bar. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Of course.”

  Not sure why I’d even bothered asking if he wanted anything. It was ritual to have a stiff drink readily available upon Calenus’s arrival. An offering, of sorts.

  I handed him a glass of a sour wine, and sat on a chair opposite him. A table that framed a flat-screen rested before us; news headlines scrolled along the screen with messages from central command. I was always at work, no matter where.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss,” I said after another moment of awkward silence. “I had no intention of harming any of yours.”

  “They all are mine,” said Calenus, calloused. “And they are either dying, divided, or on the brink of extinction.”

  A chill descended my spine. “Are you alright?”

  My concern seemed to snap him out of it. His vainglory came back. “You know I can’t let you reproduce the tranquilizers you’ve created.”

  “I figured. They weren’t intended for anyone but the Jury.”

  “Yet one of my scholars is dead.”

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that, but Ixiah attacked the commander of my army, aboard my enemy’s ship. Should Praetor Delvori not have defended herself? Does she not have a right to live?”

  Calenus took a sip of wine. “She does, yes. The only reason you and Praetor Delvori are still alive is because Ixiah was at fault. He shouldn’t have been there at all.”

  “He was trying to protect his brother,” I said, sympathetic. “I understand why, but I need to emphasize that the only reason those tranquilizers were developed is because Leid and her guardians have breached their contract. Again.”

  “Not quite,” he objected. “I remember the terms. Your contract is voided if the Contest ends. There isn’t any limitation to what happens after the Contest ends, so that isn’t a breach.” He saw my expression falter. “I don’t really want to side with her, but in this she wasn’t wrong.”

  “But your contracts always prohibit scholars from physically involving themselves in Lesser affairs. Why is this any different?”

  “It’s not.” He paused, thinking. “Well, it is, but it isn’t. Technically Leid isn’t a scholar. Neither are her guardians. The contract she drew up for you in turn relinquished her membership to us.”

  Oh, for the love of Hell. “You can’t possibly allow Vel’Haru to engage in battle alongside the angels!”

  Calenus gave me a conflicted look. “You’re right. I can’t, and won’t. But the situation has grown complicated and right now I am unable to remove Leid against her will.”

  “… Is that where the bruise came from?”

  “I need time to prepare,” he said, ignoring me. “You’ll have to fend them off by yourself for now.” At my evident displeasure, he looked away. “Everything here is upside-down. How did it all come to this?”

  I finished my drink and left it on the table, rising to my feet. “I don’t know. Time has a way of turning everything sour.”

  “Right,” murmured Calenus. “Thanks for the drink.”

  “Sorry, again. Ixiah did so much for this world.”

  “His brother looks a lot like him now, doesn’t he?” he said, on his way to the door. “Even feels like him.”

  That last part made me pause. I wasn’t quite sure what he had meant. “As a matter of fact, Praetor Delvori mistook Ixiah for Yahweh. When will I hear from you again?”

  “I’m not sure. Soon.”

  “Do you swear that you’ll remove Leid and her guardians from The Atrium?”

  Calenus narrowed his eyes. Seldom could he look at anyone eye-level. “I swear I’ll remove Leid, only if you swear you’ll never make another tranquilizer.”

  I smiled diplomatically. “Once the Jury is gone, I’ll have no need for them. Until then, I’m obligated to protect my people in any way that I can.”

  “Noted,” he said, icily.

  Calenus slipped through the door and by the time I looked into the hall, he was gone.

  I still had no idea how he’d gotten in here. The door was locked and the window was two hundred feet above the deck. I couldn’t recall them being able to teleport, but then again why would they have shared anything with me?

  Whatever was going on between the lines—this ‘complication’—was eating away at me. Qaira had used that phrasing, too. Almost word for word.

  And then I thought of our final game of chess, where Yahweh told me about the statue on Atlas Arcantia. Complicated.

  Oh, no.

  I reached for my aeon, nearly knocking the bottle of wine off the table. Caelis answered my call on the third ring.

  “Sir?”

  “Have the hangar prepare a freight run. We’re sending Abraxes three carnifexes.”

  There was hesitation on Caelis’s end. “The carnifexes? I thought they were only for—”

  “I know.”

  “Oh. Uh, oh, okay. I’ll send a freight to Archdemons Lier and Tryess right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  I was about to cut the signal but I heard him add, “They might not even work. There wasn’t a way to test them, you know.”

  “Better to try than die.”

  “That rhymed.”

  “Good night.”

  I placed the port-aeon on the table and leaned back in my chair. Hopefully my hunch was wrong and we wouldn’t have to use the carnifexes. Seldom was I wrong.

  As my eyes closed, I though
t of Samnaea and what she would think of the carnifexes. I wouldn’t tell her unless it was crucial that we use them—;

  And if we had to use them, she would hate me forever.

  VI

  THE GIFT OF GIVING

  Qaira Eltruan—;

  “I DIDN’T KNOW,” I said after locking the navigation room door. Broken glass crunched under my boots. Even the blast shield was cracked. “Not while it mattered, anyway. I couldn’t stop it from happening.”

  “But you’ve known since you’ve been back,” said Yahweh. “And you’ve told no one.”

  “What should I have said? If I’d opened my mouth, she would have been dead.”

  Yahweh clenched his jaw and turned away, massaging his forehead. He looked tired, at his wit’s end. “What does Adrial say of all this?”

  “That I’m a motherfucker.”

  Yahweh laughed in spite of me. “I don’t even care anymore. Everything is so messed up, war is the least of our problems.”

  “It’s still your first priority,” I said. “Things continue as planned. Nothing’s changed.”

  He blinked.

  I’d begun to notice a deviation in his personality; he was a bit more sardonic, passive-aggressive. Must have been the transformation.

  “Er, everything has changed, Qaira. The Court of Enigmus just tried to kill us, and my advisor is no longer in charge of her own body. And I’ve been turned Vel’Haru, and—”

  “Nothing has changed. Win the war.”

  “What’s the point? The Scarlet Queen, destroyer of universes, is strolling aboard our ship! We’ll most likely be eviscerated before dawn!”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. “If you don’t win this war, we can’t place all of our attention into treating Leid’s expiration. Leid is the only thing keeping Oraniquitis Loren from permanently acquiring her body. Do you understand what that means? If Leid expires, Oraniquitis is reborn; this time with berserker strength.”