The Circuit, Book 1

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “Go on.” Benjar gestured to Talon. “Take the lively one first.”

  “I can’t…” she whimpered, her voice cracking.

  Benjar’s expression darkened. “What?” he questioned.

  “I can’t…He has…he has the blue death.”

  Talon wished she would’ve just shot him in the head. Her eyes met his for the shortest moment and it was more torturous than anything else the Tribune could muster. Everything he had told her was just a way for her to feel less guilty—to keep him alive so that his blood wouldn’t be on her hands.

  “How…” he mouthed, but it was no use.

  “Does he now?” Benjar eyed Talon curiously.

  “Yes I promise!” Sage yelled, finally showing some vim. She grabbed Benjar’s arm.

  The Tribune rubbed the chin beneath his arrogant grin before he flicked her hands off of him. “Then perhaps he is of further use to us. The Keepers are always looking for new recruits and we are so close to having them on our side. A noble gesture, Sage, but an attack on the Tribune must be punished! Put the injured one out of his misery.” He turned her toward Vellish and lifted her arm. “Make the diseased one watch.”

  Talon roared and sprung at Benjar with all of his might, but at that instant Yavortha’s fist crashed across his jaw and sent him sprawling onto all fours where he was restrained by other soldiers.

  He glanced up to see Sage unable to bring herself to look at him, but she didn’t move the gun. Tribune Vakari placed his hands around her hips like a vice. With his help her pistol was aimed at Vellish, the soldiers holding him up so the barrel was only inches away from his forehead.

  Benjar glanced down at Talon and his lips curled into an even more sinister smile, if that was possible. “Has another fallen under your spell? How precious.” He walked over and seized Talon’s face, forcing him to look straight at Vellish. “Kill him.”

  “Agatha…” Talon mouthed through his throbbing jaw, even though he knew the name wasn’t real. Sage’s hand was beginning to tremble.

  Vellish puffed out his chest and lifted his head. “It’s okay, Tal,” he said. “At least I’ll go down like a true Ceresian.” He growled and spat at her feet. Talon could tell it took all he had to get those words though his bloody lips. “Do it you traitorous bitch.”

  “Go on,” Benjar urged her. “Remember who you are.”

  “I am a knight in the darkness; a vessel of their wisdom,” she began to mumble something under her breathe that sound as if it were part of a prayer. Her eyes were glaring hollowly just over the crown of Vellish’s head.

  “Agatha don—” Talon shouted, but it was too late. The clang of her pistol rang out as she squeezed the trigger. Blood sprayed out and Vellish crumbled to the ground with a gaping hole in the center of his forehead.

  Talon’s whole body shook in rage as his friend’s head rolled over to face him, its eyes stuck open. He wanted to reach out but then another blow struck him in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX—SAGE VOLUS

  Crippled Faith

  Sage stared at a silver plate covered in the greenest pieces of lettuce she’d ever seen. A silky, olive colored blanket was draped over her shoulders, covering her naked body.

  She languidly twirled a fork in her fingers, watching as tiny droplets of water tumbled along the veins of one of the shreds of lettuce as it wound around the prongs. Her reflection in the handle of the utensil stared back at her, and it almost slipped through her fingers as she looked away. Her long, wavy red hair was back, but she felt more lost than ever.

  “I dare say that I have never seen a woman so beautiful in all the Circuit,” Benjar Vakari admired as he entered the dining room of his personal quarters aboard the Ascendant.

  Sage quickly pulled the blanket tight around her so that it concealed her breasts and looked up. The whole space was wrapped in one extensive HOLO-Screen, displaying a living image of what Sage assumed was ancient Earth. Tall blades of green grass swayed with the wind as puffy white clouds drifted across a preposterously blue sky. Tremendous mountains rose in the distance to cut through them, painted a pale mauve color by the looming vapor. And the sun. It glimmered like a radiant jewel, casting its light upon all that was visible. It was a remarkable scene, but at that moment she couldn’t bring herself to imagine anything like it ever existing on the frigid wasteland Earth had become.

  “Come now, eat,” Benjar implored. “You must be hungry after living amongst those wretches.” He fiddled with the sash around the waste of his half open robe.

  She lifted the lettuce stuck to the end of her fork up in front of her mouth. She was starving for anything besides pills, but the sick feeling in her stomach made it almost impossible to swallow. She took a small bite and forced it down, and then instantly knew why it was considered a delicacy.

  “Good, see? I had it brought up special for you.” He skirted around the table toward her.

  After the first bite she began to quickly shovel it into her mouth and wash it down with the tall glass of crystalline water placed beside the plate. Each piece helped wash away the foul taste in her mouth and helped to settle her stomach.

  “We need you to stay strong.” He knelt at her side and began to stare at the artificial hand resting on her bare thigh. She froze as he grabbed the blanket around her and began to peel it back to reveal the rest of her arm. She dropped her fork and pulled it down out of reflex. When he tried again she found herself unable to resist. Half of her lithe figure was revealed as she covered her exposed breast with her natural hand.

  “It really is remarkable,” he whispered as he pulled the arm closer to his face and began to analyze all its facets. He was careful to leave his free hand on her inner thigh, his fingers running around the soft curve.

  Her lower lip began to tremble. She looked up and stared into the light above the table, trying her best to ignore the tingling sensation which had begun to seize her whole body.

  “I never truly took the time to admire his work. You feel nothing?” He got a look at it from every angle, playing with the fingers and trying to see what was behind every plate. She shook her head as she watched out of the corner of her eye. All she could feel were his fingers running down her leg. The tiny pinch which she used to feel in her shoulder whenever she moved the arm had been gone since the explosion on Mars.

  “And you can move it all with your mind?” Benjar asked.

  Suddenly, Sage remembered Talon’s face from earlier; his glassy, blue eyes staring at her with that shattered gaze. She reached over and pushed Benjar’s hand away from her leg, then threw the blanket back over her shoulder and picked up her fork to continue eating. “All with my mind,” she replied coldly.

  “Amazing,” Benjar remarked, clearly dissatisfied by her rejection.

  He got to his feet, then ambled around to the other end of the long table where a similar meal was arrayed. There he sat down, elegantly unfolding a napkin and laying it over his lap before picking up his fork. His pearly, white teeth tore through a chunk of lettuce, water running over his loudly smacking lips that made it appear like he either wasn’t enjoying the taste or he was ravenously hungry. “Onto the next mission I suppose,” he said as he continued crunching without looking up.

  “Wha…What?” Sage stumbled over her words. “What happened to Talon?” It took all of her courage to ask.

  “Talon?” Benjar began to chortle, spewing out tiny bits of his meal before he took a long sip of water to wash it all down. “Who in the name of Earth is Talon?”

  “The man…” She chose her words carefully. “The Ceresian with the Blue Death.”

  “Oh yes, him.” Benjar glared up at her, his brow wrinkled. “He was sent off with a transport to become a Keeper of the Circuit like you requested. Those self-righteous bastards…better if we could have just killed him here for what he did. No matter. The Spirit is just, afflicting him so. What bother is he to you?”

  She didn’t say anything.
She didn’t even feel her expression shift, but she could see by the way Benjar reacted that he knew how she felt. Of all the Tribunes, he was the most attuned to her feelings. As if he could see right through her.

  “I see. The incomparable Sage Volus as taken with a mercenary from Ceres as he is with her!” Benjar began to laugh so hard that he almost choked. “So that explains your apathy last night in my bed! You always have had a peculiar taste in men. What was his name before?”

  “Stop it…” she whimpered, her artificial hand squeezing the table so hard that the metal began to cave in.

  “Caleb. That’s right. Caleb Va—”

  “Stop it!” she screamed, cutting him off before he could finish the name. Her arm slid across the table, slapping her plate into the wall and disturbing the projected, tranquil scene of Earth. Her head fell into her hands, and she sobbed concussion had never as an uncontrollable storm of thoughts and visions raced through her consciousness. There was fire and ash, blood and water, and her head began to pound as if the concussion had never abated.

  A hand fell upon her shoulder and she snapped up, grasping the forearm and wrenching Benjar to his knees. Her whole body quaked as she realized who it was. His smug grin was wiped away. There was fear in his face; fear like she’d never seen in it before. Two soldiers appeared in the doorway, their rifles trained on her head as they moved closer.

  “Sage…” the Tribune whimpered. “Sage, release me. Release me now or they are going to kill you.”

  She didn’t say or do anything. She just continued to stare over his shoulder as a blur of violent images flashed before her eyes.

  “My dear, you must release me!”

  Sage blinked and looked around as if waking up from a nightmare. The barrel of one of the soldier’s guns pressed against the back of her head. Her breathing beginning to slow down, she looked down at her numb, artificial arm and realized what she was doing. Her eyes widened in horror as she let go and pulled the blanket up, which had fallen down from her shoulders.

  “How dare you assault me!” Benjar growled. The back of his hand struck Sage across her tear-stained cheek. “You are an Executor of the New Earth Tribunal!” He grabbed her by the jaw and pulled her face close. “You don’t fall for some Ceresian! For a heretic!” He pushed her away forcefully and stepped back, taking a few long breaths to calm himself and fix his clothing.

  “Do you know why we exist, Sage?” Benjar then said calmly.

  Sage sniveled and nodded her head. The soldier behind her backed away a bit, but she could still feel his weapon rustling through the ends of her hair.

  “Before we came along humanity was lost. Yes there was the Circuit, but that was merely a means of survival. Left to themselves humanity would crumble. You have seen it; seen the way those pitiful Ceresians revel and drink and fuck without a second thought. We exist to provide order in the name of the unifying Spirit. As Earth once provided for the Ancients, we must be the scaffold that holds our species together! We are a homeless people. This ship. These cities. They are all an illusion to hold us together until the Earth is ready to receive us again. Until we are worthy.” He brought himself to stand tall in front of her, drowning her in his shadow so that she quickly forgot the frightened man he’d just been.

  “But will we ever truly be worthy?” Sage asked meekly. She couldn’t believe those words of doubt actually slipped through her lips.

  “Of course we will!” Benjar affirmed. His brown eyes were sparkling with fervor. “But there are some amongst us who I fear have had their faith crippled.”

  “Me?” she asked.

  “Not you,” he said, to her relief. He grasped her shoulders and squeezed passionately. “I have never doubted your faith. But I need you now, Sage. I need you to help Cassius Vale remember his oaths. The Tribune needs you. Before it is too late.”

  “Cassius?” Sage leaned forward anxiously. “Is he okay?”

  “I know your history with him.” Benjar glanced at her artificial arm. “Joran doesn’t believe me, but I have reason to believe he was behind the attacks on our freighters, before this Talon character.”

  He would never do such a thing, Sage thought. “That can’t be. Why would he ever do that?”

  “I don’t know, but I fear he is losing his grip on sanity. He needs your help, Sage. Whatever he is planning, he needs your help to remember his faith. Edeoria is suffering from neglect. His people starve and are forced from their homes for whatever project he is concocting. Soon we will be left with no choice but to take action.”

  “No!” She slid off of the chair to her knees and begged. “Please don’t hurt him. I can help him.”

  “It is because he once sat on the council that I am sending you to him first. Use your shared past. Find out what he’s up to and try to dissuade him. Cassius has always been an obstinate man, but this…well if my suspicions are accurate then it would be tragic…truly devastating.”

  Sage shook her head defiantly. Cassius was the closest thing she had left to family. “No,” she declared. “It can’t be him. Cassius is loyal, I know it.”

  “Then go to him, my dear. A ship has been prepped for you. Go to him and rescue his soul.” Benjar lifted her to his feet and signaled the guard to stand down. “And prove your worth to the Spirit.”

  “I will,” she decided without thinking twice. There was a time when she and Cassius were very close and if he would open up to anybody she hoped it would be her. I will save him, she thought to herself, remembering all that he had done for her in a sudden epiphany. I have to.

  “Good!” Benjar kneeled down and picked up the plate she had knocked over. “And we’ll put all of this behind us.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and with a complacent smile on his face began to walk her toward the exit. “May the Spirit of the Earth guide your steps.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN—TALON RAYNE

  The Ship of the Dead

  Boarding a Solar-Ark locked onto the Circuit was an intricate affair. Moving at nearly a tenth the speed of light, the enormous ships never even slowed down, let alone came to a complete stop. They passed through the Conduit Stations like gushing water through perfectly sized pipes. The Ancients developed a complicated system of magnetics and Gravitum Generators capable of disbursing or receiving cargo containers to and from the Conduit in a fraction of a second. It took some time after the fall of Earth for humans themselves to figure out how to survive the transfer without fail, but by the 2nd century of the Kepler Circuit it had become an ordinary routine.

  Talon was bound to his seat on a shipping container in one of the Conduits somewhere in the Circuit. Every inch of his body was strapped in by nano-fiber fastenings able to adapt to the incredible force of the transfer. A circle of rolling light shone brightly from above and beneath him, giving his whole body the impression of weightlessness. He somewhat enjoyed the feeling. It took an edge off of the insufferable soreness creeping through every one of his diseased muscles.

  “Three,” a computerized, female voice spoke over a speaker.

  He had never boarded a Solar-Ark before. All of the others seated around the cylindrical container looked terrified, their teeth chattering. Talon was calm. It was his one chance since the incident aboard the New Earth Cruiser to be distracted by something other than debilitating thoughts of how Sage betrayed him; of how he led Ulson and Vellish to their doom and of how he was never going to see Elisha again.

  “Two.”

  To some degree he hoped that the transfer would kill him. That would be the least I deserve, he thought. It seemed like a nice way to die—quick and painless. Though, truthfully, every options sounded preferable to spending the rest of his abridged life deteriorating aboard a ship until he was a helpless cripple.

  “One.”

  There was a deafening clap. He wanted to keep his eyes open to watch, but it was impossible. His frame was wreathed in such crushing pressure that he thought all of his bones were ready to snap. His face felt as though it were be
ing peeled back over his skull, which in turn felt like it was going to crush his brain. The Splinter Chamber he rode into battle was nothing in comparison. The sudden and excruciating pain was unbearable.

  Then, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, there was silence. He was sitting in the same position, struggling to regain his breath. His head was pounding. His stomach was curdling and the soreness had returned all over, but he was alive.

  The straps came off of him and when he tried to stand a powerful sense of dizziness seized him. He fell forward onto his knees and vomited, which didn’t help make the bright lines of pain running along his ribs feel any better. When he was done he looked around to see that the dozen or so others inside of the room all had the same reaction.

  “I remember my first time!” the silhouette of a man chuckled. He descended through the ceiling descended in a lift. “There is no shame in it.” He placed his hand on one of the other men cursed with the Blue Death who continued violently heaving. “Let it all out. We’ll clean it. You will be safe here.” The silhouetted man had a gentle voice, one that made it hard to doubt the earnestness in his words.

  “Welcome to the Solar-Ark Amerigo, Keepers!” he continued. “Named after one of the last empires of the Earth, this vessel has sailed the Circuit since its fall. I am Tarsis Yoler and it will be my great honor to be the first to walk you through the halls the Ancients built for us.”

  When Talon was able to center his vision he saw something which he didn’t expect. The man’s eyes were blue as glass and the veins on his temples shone with a cobalt radiance as bright as an ion engine. He was thin and had an intentionally messy bearded which helped conceal the inevitable progress of his fatal disease. He stood erect, attached to an extensive exo-skeletal suit that appeared like it could’ve once been the frame of a small Mining Mech. There was a body-shaped core wrapped around his torso and extending to a brace beneath his chin. Bulky, artificial limbs stemmed from it, latching onto his arms and legs like a metal parasite. When the man took a few steps forward the suit hissed every time its joints bent.