Strikeforce (18 page)

33

Cassius took a seat at the edge of the porch, fighting the lure of sleep. He had only thirty minutes more before Eva arrived to take over lookout, and he wanted to make the most of it.

He opened a slot in the Ridium suit to get to his pocket. There were still four senso-cubes in there. He knew it wasn't very safe to go off into a memory when he was supposed to be keep
ing watch over the house, but he told himself that they would be quick. And more than that, they would be important. The first two had already shown him so much. More than anything, he craved to learn what had happened to his parents. The Authority had captured them. Had they escaped? He was desperate to find out.

With that thought, he delved into the first cube. It turned out to be a disappointment, sharing no more than an extended look at a street corner, most likely a sliver of one of Haven's vast cities. While initially fascinating, given the strange, free-flowing architecture and the crowds of interestingly dressed civilians, it didn't offer any answers. Cassius could barely even make out individual conversations. The city was so bustling and noisy.

The next two cubes offered looks at similar scenes— shots of buildings and the interiors of hallways. Whispered conversations too quiet and fast to pick up, even though they'd been translated to English for his brain.

The fourth and final cube, though, held a different story.

At first, he wasn't sure if it had worked, for the surroundings he found himself in were as dark as the one he'd left on the front porch of the farmhouse.

But soon, he felt trapped. He stood in the corner of a tight room. No windows, no doors that he could see. There were, however, two large objects in the center of the room. Cassius couldn't make out details, but they seemed to be a pair of tables.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice rumbled through the room.

“This is not a request. A request you can shirk. This is a
demand
.”

Cassius plastered himself against the wall. He looked down and noticed that he wasn't wearing the Ridium suit any longer. He felt more vulnerable in normal clothing.

He recognized the voice immediately from another saved memory he'd witnessed. The characteristic boom, the impossible harshness of it. It was Matigo, leader of the Authority. But Matigo wasn't in the room now. His voice came from speakers, or some similar kind of technology.

“I'm aware that you cannot speak any longer,” the voice continued. “That is fine. I don't need your words. I already have your voices. What I crave now are your thoughts.”

Cassius continued to look around the room, convinced that there was someone else in there with him. The longer his eyes had to adjust to his surroundings, the more he could see—bottles full of strange liquids lining dusty counters on one wall, sharp tools hanging on another. It was like being stuck in some mad scientist's underground laboratory.

“Pearls,” Matigo said. “I understand their significance now. Soon, the Authority will have its own armada, twice as strong as your Resistance.” His voice paused, then cut through the silence once more. “It's not Pearl energy that I'm interested in, it's Pearlbreakers. The Key and the Catalyst. You've found a weapon against my Ridium, haven't you? A weapon that needs to be destroyed before it becomes a threat to my people.”

Cassius swallowed, listening carefully while trying to work up the courage to venture deeper into the darkness. He knew that nothing in the room could hurt him or even touch him, but he was scared of what he could find if he moved closer to the tables. More than that, he was scared of how helpless he would feel. There was nothing he could do here but watch. And listen.

He took a step forward as Matigo spoke again. “Even now I am pulling the secrets from your brains. Things you've forgotten you've stored, things you haven't even told each other … not that it will matter once I'm done.”

He laughed—a dry, hollow sound.

Cassius took another step. The walls vibrated with Matigo's voice.

“Rest with the knowledge that I'll find and kill your children just as easily as I've captured you. You won't be around to see it happen, so you'll have to trust me. Sending them to Earth was a mistake.”

Another step.

Cassius reached out, making sure that he wouldn't bump into anything in the darkness. As the pair of tables grew closer, he could make out more details. Etchings wound around the sides of the slabs. They'd been carved from some so
rt of stone, cool to the touch when he ran his fingers across the surface.

Before he had a chance to peer closer, the ceiling lit up. Red.

He bounded backward, shocked by the sudden change in the room. He had to shield his eyes as a powerful crimson glow emanated from somewhere far beyond the ceiling.

It illuminated the bodies on the stone tables.

Cassius forced himself to look down.

He recognized the two of them at once, though he'd only seen one photo back in Seattle when Madame's Ridium-
constructed box had opened and revealed the image of hi
s parents.

Savon and Adaylla. They were unmistakable, even with the lower half of their faces obscured by heavy clamps and their legs and arms harnessed to the slabs.

They lay on their backs, like human sacrifices to some powerful scarlet god above them. Even though Cassius could see very little skin outside their stained white clothing, he could tell that they were injured. Bruised, beaten up. His father had a black eye, his mother a large scar across her forehead. They both wore large, constricting vests of metal, which weighed their midsections down against the stone. Cassius recognized this particular device as the same one he'd seen in the forest—the weapon the Authority woman had used on the man called Jorbun. The one that had ultimately killed him.

His first instinct was to rush forward, to wrap his fingers around the restraints and try to pull them off, but he knew that it would do no good. This was all in the past. He couldn't help them. He couldn't even talk to them.

Matigo's assured, frustratingly elusive voice came again. “Your allies think you've gone into hiding. That's the message we've fed to your networks. They won't know the truth until well after you're gone.”

Cassius watched his father glance over at his mother, a subtle expression in his eyes that—even though neither could talk—could only mean goodbye.

“It's a brave battle you've waged,” Matigo continued. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You were simply not up to the challenge.”

Cassius backed away, looking straight up at the glowing red, trying to see past it. Maybe there was an added dimension, the kind he'd seen with the suit of Ridium across his face.

If there was, he couldn't break through it. The brightness forced his eyes away as Matigo delivered his final words.

“I have what I need,” he said. “It's been an honor. Say goodbye to all of this.”

“No,” Cassius replied, not even trying to keep his emotions at bay any longer. “No.”

The devices around his parents activated and suddenly the room was filled with a sickly smell as their bodies decomposed right in front of him, reduced to a pile of flesh, bones, and soaking blood that spilled over the sides of the tables.

Cassius reached out a hand as if to pull them back into life. “No.”

With that, the memory dismantled around him, fading into blackness before it was replaced by the horizon of the Fringe Town in front of him. He stood on the porch, bolt upright, and looked out into the night.

His breath was a tangle in his throat. His shoulders heaved. He wasn't sure how long he stood there before Madame's voice interrupted his panic.

“Cassius.”

He turned to see her standing in the doorway again, hair messy. Her face was free of glasses—scuffed up and tired. She looked older, somehow.

He stood for a moment, staring at her, saying nothing.

“You shouted,” she whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the darkness beyond.

He swallowed. “My parents are … my parents are dead.”

She met his eyes. Her jaw tightened, like she didn't know what to say. Instead, she held out her arms. He staggered forward, allowing her to embrace him.

“There, there.” She patted his back like she used to do when he was little. He could argue with her again, run away into the night, but it was easier to simply give in and let her hold him.

After a while, Cassius pushed away and wiped his eyes. “Thank you.”

“They would have been very proud of you, Cassius. As proud as I am.”

“Please don't talk about yourself.”

She nodded, a soft chuckle betraying her frown. “I'm sorry. Force of habit. But you've got to understand this. You're more than a soldier.” She stepped away, resting her back against the wall. “There's no debating your skill level. There never was. But beyond that … there's something else inside of you. The kind of bravery that people like me can only dream of possessing. The ability to risk your life—not for yourself, but for everybody else.

“I don't know where it came from,” she continued. “Certainly not from me and my teachings. You're incredibly special. Your parents must have been incredibly special as well.”

He glanced up at her, searching for a hint of duplicity or insincerity. For once, it wasn't there.

He looked away. “That's nice of you to say, but it's a lie.”

“Oh?”

“I'm a soldier, like you said. That's what I was trained to be and that's how I ended up. I fight. It's all I know how to do. And when that doesn't work, I kill. There's nothing brave about that.”

She sighed, appraising him for a moment before speaking. “We'll see.”

Silence fell between them, so quiet that Cassius could hear insects chirping in the distance. Encased inside his Ridium suit, he knew that all he would have to do is turn and focus and he'd be able to work out their exact location. He could probably conjure a fly-swatter from the dark stuff and snuff them out before they even knew what hit them.

He swallowed. “I accept your apology, but that doesn't mean things are going to be easy between the two of us.”

“I never asked for that.”

“Good.” He wiped the bottoms of his eyes. “You fight by my side, with no motive or exception. That'll go a long way in proving that you mean what you say.”

“Of course,” she replied. “I can't think of anything that—”

Her expression froze. She laid a hand on his shoulder, pulling him forward again. Her voice was a whisper as she gently prodded him around to face the scenery beyond their farmhouse. “Do you see that? We need to get inside.”

He squinted. At first he didn't notice them, his mind still clouded by Madame's words and the memory he'd just witnessed. But as more and more appeared from the darkness, they became impossible to ignore.

Red dots. Pairs of red dots.

The eyes of the enemy, as the Drifters had called them.

The dots surrounded the farmhouse, the closest as near as the dried-up tree in the front yard, the farthest half a block away, across the street hiding in the faraway brush.

Cassius counted twenty-four dots in total, which meant twelve soldiers—easily more than they'd ever faced before.

Instantly, he ordered the Ridium suit to cascade up over his head, covering his entire body. As before, the world transformed. Through the Ridium, he perceived outlines of their bodies. He noticed every subtle movement. The darkness no longer seemed a hindrance to him.

There were more than twelve. And worse yet, they were ready to attack.

34

My fingers drum against the tabletop. I feel hopelessly out of place, but I don't let that get to me.

Captain Alkine stands in front of a window so big that it stretches across the entire wall of the curved meeting room, offering a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean outside. Eight of his closest advisors sit on either side of the equally impressive tabletop, while Savon, Avery, and I take the far end. It's Skyship Academy's largest situation room—a place I had never been granted access to before this whole fiasco.

Alkine paces, head bowed as he speaks. “What do we know? That's the first order of business, and that's why you're so valuable, Jesse.”

I glance at my father. There's so much to tell, and I don't know where to begin. But even knowing all I do about the Authority and Haven, I still can't offer much in the way of concrete battle plans.

Savon responds before I can say anything. “We're awaiting his brother, Cassius Stevenson.”

Alkine's brows rise. “Cassius? The same kid who nearly got us all killed?”

“My father thinks—”

“I don't
think
,” Savon interrupts. “I
know
. My two sons, together, can bring the end of this invasion.”

Alkine stops. “How, exactly?”

“I designed Pearl transport. The effects on their physiology run deep. The Authority won't be able to—”

“And what is the Authority meaning to do, exactly?” Alkine leans his hands on the edge of the table. “Besides destroy our civilization, that is.”

I look over to him. There's a crackle in the air between Alkine and my father. They're likely the two strongest men I've met. I know neither quite trusts the other. That schism can't be allowed to grow into anything more.

“Look,” I start. “I know we haven't seen eye to eye very often, especially lately. But Savon says Cassius is on his way, and I trust him. I've been having these visions and … and he's already saved my life more than once. Hear him out. There's more that Cassius and I can do than you know about. There's a reason we were chosen for this.”

Alkine sighs, glancing at each of his advisors before speaking. “Point me in the right direction. That's all I ask. I want to help, not to get in the way. But I need something to do. As far as we know, we're the only operational Skyship in the country. That's got to count for something.”

I nod, waiting for my father to speak. He doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes. His entire face tenses for a moment before relaxin
g again.

Then I feel it.

The familiar tug of Pearls pulls on my chest. The hairs on my arms stand on end. I look past Alkine, at the ocean beyond the glass. In seconds I see a pair of green orbs shooting down at a diagonal, headed toward me.

Alkine catches my distracted expression. “Fisher?”

I grit my teeth. Normally, I'd welcome the arrival of Pearls, but not when I'm onboard a ship like this. I don't want to do any more damage to the Academy than I already have.

“Move away from the window,” I say. Just in case.

I stand and bring my arms out in front of me, as if readying to conduct an orchestra. I watch the Pearls' descent carefully, but more than that I feel them in my gut. I can't let them get too close before breaking them.

Raising both hands at once, I wait until they're in full sight and clench my fists.

Each and every advisor at the table careens backward, instinctively reacting to the dual explosions outside. For a second, the once-calm panorama beyond the window is a sea of dense green energy. Whatever hits the ship itself works its way into the circuitry, giving our engines a nice boost. The rest shoots into the sky in all directions.

It takes a moment before I see the Drifters freed from the falling Pearls. I expect them to pinwheel off in varying directions, shock-addled by the new world they find themselves in, but instead they continue on in their exact paths toward the meeting room, pointed like daggers descending on the window.

I step back. “What?”

I bring both arms forward, hoping that maybe I can manipulate the energy around them—force them in a different direction. Even if they hit the window, they can't be strong enough to break through the thick layer of fiberglass. They aren't Pearls anymore.

I'm wrong.

Both Drifters easily bore their way through the window, assisted by their fields of green energy. Before I can react, the glass shatters in two oversized bullet holes, letting loose an instant vacuum in the room. Anything not nailed down flies out of the openings. Advisors bolt to the far end, nearest to the inner wall.

I don't move. Instead, I watch the Drifters come at my father, so fast and intent that there's no way I'm stopping them.

He backs away, but not before they collide with his body, setting forth an explosion of green that sends everyone but me tumbling off their feet.

The energy courses into my body, making me stronger.

My father lurches downward, but remains standing. Barely. The Drifters pulse backward in the air, then come at him again. Punching. Kicking. Biting. Anything they can do to keep him from getting the opportunity to fight back.

They're crazy. Rabid. I have to do something.

Once I'm able to overcome the shock of it, I stumble forward, fighting the pull from the air as it whips past me. I focus in on the closest Drifter—reach out my hand in clawed desperation—and grab hold of the energy. With as much strength as I can muster, I pull my arm sideways across my chest and watch as the Drifter follows the same arc, yanked back through the air until he smashes into the window.

He struggles, arms and legs flailing like a giant insect, but I keep him flattened against the glass. And when I let go, the suction from the nearest hole instantly pulls him out.

Savon still fights against the second Drifter—hand-to-hand combat that moves so fast it almost becomes a blur. I latch onto the Drifter's energy and try to slow him down, pull his arms behind his back so that my father can strike a decisive blow.

It doesn't take much. The poor Drifter doesn't stand a chance against our combined power. Once I've got him frozen, my father hits him with a powerful punch to the jaw. I gently lower the now-unconscious Drifter to the ground.

Free from the threat of attack, I realize that Savon and I are the only two left in the room. Everyone else retreated out the door to the corridors beyond during the fight. It's a good thing, too, as the chamber's becoming more and more depressurized as the openings in the window continue to spread.

I try to meet my father's eye, but he turns away, heading for the door.

I step forward, unsure of what to say or do. I've never seen friendly Drifters act like that before. Not only had they been strong enough to breach the room, but the kamikaze-like intention in their movements was uncharacteristic for a newly freed Drifter, and more than a little unsettling.

Plus, they'd gone straight for my father, like they'd been programmed by the Authority or something.

“We've gotta get out of here,” I shout to him. “Before the—”

“I need to talk to you, Jesse,” he interrupts. “Alone.”

With that, he pulls on the door handle and disappears into the hallway. I take a deep breath and follow, hairs still on end, heart beating double time.