16/8/1100
I’d been to Londinium a few times before this. It’s the biggest city in the world by population still, though Baizao in Greater Yan is catching up. I missed the whole Londinium Crisis, as I was busy running errands back in Lungmen for the whole thing. Kinda glad, actually. As much of a party girl as I am, that whole thing sounded like one big mess.
Now, looking at Londinium, I felt sick. Was this what the Crisis had been like? A massive firestorm had engulfed the center of the city, and there was still smoke filling the air, and rescue crews and firefighters at work, visible even as our flight of VTOLs flew overhead.
“Contact! Closing fast!” Croissant gasped from the cockpit, and I looked out, and nearly screamed: A Lateran Gun Knight was rising to meet us on a plume of smoke, optics glowing brightly.
Only, no. That wasn’t an apostolic knight. For one thing, it was too large: Lateran Gun Knights are only about 2 meters tall at the largest. This thing was at least three and a half. For another, its weapons were too crude to be Lateran forged. It rose up, and its optics glowed as it scanned us. Then, the Steam Knight saluted and crashed back to the landing platform, trailing a ragged cape of red. I took in a sharp gasp of air. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.
“That…that was a Victorian Steam Knight. I thought the last knight was dead,” I commented to Odda beside me, face still pressed up against the window.
“It was Allerdale,” Wiš'adel said, running a grease rag over her grenade launcher. “That bitch must have got her old family armor working. That’s going to be a fucking problem. Victoria gets Steam Knights again, and they get antsy. Not a whole fucking lot that can check them if the angels have gone bug fuck crazy.”
I turned and glared at her. “We don’t know that! It, it’s just a rumor! The Gun Knights are champions of Justice and Peace! They would never-”
“Kill a whole innocent village of Sarkaz,” Wiš'adel said, her eyes smoldering with rage as she glared at me. “Want me to show you the pictures? Or just describe it for you? Maybe ask your boytoy. Go on, little messenger. Tell our ‘sister’ about how her precious knights of ‘justice’ slaughter our people’s children.”
I felt sick to my stomach and felt hot tears in my eyes. Odda put a hand around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Exu. You know, if the Gun Knights saw us together…”
I nodded my head, my throat swollen shut.
“According to Canto XII, Section II, union between Sankta and Sarkaz is forbidden, to be punished by-” Fred began, but Arturia drew her bow across her cello, provoking a discordant note and silencing him.
“I think El is familiar enough with the cantos, Fred,” she said, giving her cousin a smirk.
Fred’s brow furrowed. “I do not understand this miscommunication. You know perfectly well that my name is Federico, Arturia. You seem to have encountered this error from Lemuel Exusiai. I most once again state that my name is Federico Giallo. Not Fred.”
“Yes, but you continue to suppress your emotions, frater meus. Let their notes soar! Until then, I am afraid you must remain Fred.”
“I see,” Federico said, his brow furrowing in a way that said he did not understand even slightly.
“Holy Law, Fred, it’s not that complicated,” I groaned.
Surtr leaned over so that Fred could see her. “Hey. Federico.”
He glanced over at her, and Surtr pulled the lollipop out of her mouth. “They’re teasing you, genius.”
“I do not understand,” Fred said, cocking his head slightly to one side. “They are mispronouncing my name. How is this teasing?”
“It means Exusiai likes you,” Surtr told him, rolling her eyes. “It’s a nickname. You know, like normal people do?”
“Ah,” Fred’s expression cleared, and he nodded. “Then they are deliberately mispronouncing my name as a form of camaraderie. Should I also mispronounce their names?”
“You should call her Applur Pie. She thinks it's funny,” Surtr advised, mispronouncing ‘apple’ in a stereotypical Lungmenese fashion.
“That seems as though it would be confusing in a firefight. This is not logical, Fred mused. He turned to Arturia. “Do you require a nickname as well, so that I can indicate our familial affection?”
“Mmm, the little flame has ruined our game, El. We shall have to find a new way to taunt frater meus,” Arturia mused, plucking a chord on her chello as the craft descended.
“That will not be necessary. I now understand this is a term of endearment, and will respond to Fred,” Fred said seriously.
“We only have to stop if it stops being funny,” I told Arturia. “I still think it’s hilarious.”
“I do not find it amusing,” Fred stated.
Surtr laughed and shook her head. “That just encourages them.”
“Fucking hell, Ears. Do your people ever just shut the fuck up?” Wiš'adel demanded of Amiya, who had a slight smile on her lips as she listened to our banter.
“I find it endearing. It shows that their bonds are strong,” Amiya said.
“I find it annoying as fuck; it shows their heads are empty,” Wiš'adel grumbled.
“If you’d like, I can come up with an appropriately disparaging yet endearing nickname for you,” I offered, giving Wiš'adel my best shit-eating grin.
“Do it and I put a grenade under your pillow,” Wiš'adel growled, glowing at me as we finally touched down.
Fred stood with the rest of us, and nodded to the roach. “Do not worry, Speaker Wiš'adel. I shall continue to refer to you by your proper name and title.”
“Fuck me, now the world’s only autist angel wants to be my friend,” Wiš'adel grumbled, and shoved her way towards the lowering hatch.
“Welcome to Victoria, Ladies and Gentlemen,” Croissant’s voice said over the speakers. “The weather is a pleasant mix of ash and political fallout. Y’all watch yer step, ‘cause the locals are a mite hostile.”
“Wow, it would be bird-brain who’s the only one who speaks my language,” Wiš'adel cackled, before skipping off the platform to where a waiting squad of Victorian guards were waiting for us.
I stepped down with Odda, but as soon as I was visible, one of our welcoming committee shouted, “Sankta!” and crossbows and lances snapped up. I raised my hands slowly, until the squad’s commander barked,
“At ease!” A heavily armored feline stomped forward, and saluted Amiya. “Apologies, CEO Amiya. My boys and girls are a bit twitchy.”
“That’s King Ears to you, Horn,” Wiš'adel huffed. She stepped forward and raised her hands. “Hear ye, hear ye, or some shit. Behold, Kazdel has a new King! The Black Crown has chosen a vessel, blah blah blah, bow or whatever the fuck it is you vickies do.”
The officer started. “I, we were not alerted of this. Is this true, Amiya?”
“It is, Captain Horn,” Amiya agreed with a nod. “However, your greeting is more than sufficient. It’s always good to see an old friend.”
“I, yes, it is good to see you as well, Majesty,” Horn said, sounding somewhat awkward. Then she glanced at me, Arturia, and Fred. “However, I must bar several of your companions from an Audience with Speaker Victoria. Laterano is currently at war with Victoria, and all Sankta are barred from Londinium.”
I was about to open my mouth and protest that we were Sarkaz, when the absolute last person I expected to speak up for me strode forward and stuck her face in Horn’s, causing the feline to take half a step back. “You got eyes, fur brain? Those are my fucking people. You think I’d have a bunch of angels in the retinue of the King of Sarkaz? Wake the fuck up. Those are Sarkaz warriors.”
“I…” Horn cleared her throat, and glanced at her soldiers, who seemed uncomfortable. “Miss Wiš'adel…those are obviously Sankta.”
“Wow, something really is wrong with your eyes, isn’t it fur brain?” Wiš'adel cackled. She came over to me and gestured to my blackened and cracked halo. “That look look an angel halo to you? And Red here has horns and a tail! Do perfect little angels have horns and a tail? I don’t fucking think so.”
Wiš'adel strode back over to Horn, the two of them thrusting out their chests and glaring at one another. “Miss Wiš'adel. They are obviously Fallen. We had heard reports of this, but the individuals we now have in custody have similar features, and perpetrated the attack on Parliament last night. I cannot allow them in the Speaker’s presence.”
“Wiš'adel. Stand down,” Amiya said. She stepped forward, and smiled at Horn. “Captain. I can assure you, my companions are not under the thrall of Priestess. They are perhaps our best hope for preventing further tragedy. Lady Exusiai and her retainers must accompany. Besides, she is officially a noble of the Sarakz court. Not a Sankta.”
I was? I glanced over at Odda in surprise, but he seemed as shocked by that revelation as I was. Then I suddenly grinned and leaned closer to him. “Hey, does that make you my consort? Heheh.”
“Uh, technically, yes?” he whispered back. “I didn’t really fully consider the implications of the Returned being recognized as a formal tribe, but, uh, yeah, you’re nobility now. Don’t let it go to your head.”
I immediately began plotting how to ‘liven up’ the Sarkaz court. There had not been one single explosion at the conclave! I was deeply disappointed. Especially with Wiš'adel: she had a reputation. Also, there was a distinct lack of dessert culture amongst the Sarkaz. Time for that Snicker Salad James had taught me about! I hadn’t had it yet, but it sounded delicious!
My expression suddenly grew worried, and I stepped forward. Horn glanced at me, and her troops half raised weapons. “Hey, is James OK? What about Lucia? I’m sure Priestess was after him. You know, Operator Bones? Tall guy, can’t shut up, sort of has a goofy expression on his face most of the time? Oh, and he’s in a wheelchair now. Some people call him Savior, but personally, I think he’s a very naughty boy!”
Horn’s expression grew pained, and the troops shifted uncomfortably. I immediately felt alarmed. “Wait, James is OK, right? Oh no! It’s not Lucia, is it?! What about the baby! They’re having a baby! They have to be OK!”
“I…I will allow Lady Exusiai and her retainers to proceed, under guard,” Horn said quietly. “Your Majesty…you have not heard?”
“I know of the attack, and suspect it’s objective. Take me to the Doktah at once,” Amiya said, and we were rushed over to an armored convoy and loaded into an APC.
Once we were seated inside, Amiya turned to Wiš'adel. “If you wish to continue in your role as Speaker, Wiš'adel, you will need to be a tad more polite to our hosts. There are others I could appoint, but I wish to give you the role first. It does, however, mean you must fulfill your duties appropriately.”
“Oh bite me, Ears,” Wiš'adel grumbled, folding her arms over her chest.
“Wiš'adel. If you do not attend to your duties appropriately, I will appoint another. I know you can do better, but you cannot let your anger control you,” Amiya told her sternly.
Wiš'adel glowered, but nodded. “Fine, all be all nice and polite. In public. But don’t expect me to be some simpering sycophant like the rest of these idiots.”
“Of course not. That is why I want you as my Speaker. That you might always speak the truth to me,” Amiya said with a nod. “Just as sisters should.”
That seemed to take Wiš'adel slightly aback, and for a brief instant, I saw the pain behind all the bluster and casual indifference. I saw years of bloodshed, horror, and loneliness. And for a brief instant, I saw the light of hope kindled.
“Huh,” I mused, and Wiš'adel turned a baleful glare at me.
“You got something to say? Don’t think that just because I won’t let the vickies shit talk you that I won’t tear you a new asshole myself, Red,” Wiš'adel growled.
“No, it’s just…even though I lost this,” I waved a hand through my broken halo, “I felt…Empathy. For you. I guess I should have expected that. I did learn how to feel for other races and understand their emotions without the…well, I guess it’s sort of a crutch for the Sankta, but you can have Empathy without…Empathy.”
Wiš'adel rolled her eyes and leaned back on the hard seat. “Spare me the pity party, Red. You can play empathy for the devils all you want. Doesn’t change what you people fucking are. Guess now the whole world can see the tyranny of the angels with that ancient bitch pulling your strings. Whatever the fuck she is, she’s cut from the same cloth as the Oracle was. So if your precious ‘Doktah’ shows one hint of going back to that…I’ll kill it myself.”
I swallowed. “You think…You think Priestess is controlling Laterano directly now? I…I’d hoped…Kal’tsit’s sacrifice…”
Amiya looked pained, and Wiš'adel looked away from me, her jaw working as if she were grinding her teeth. Amiya reached out and took my hand. “Kal’tsit bought us precious time. And seems to have greatly hindered Priestess’ abilities by depriving her of her original body, as well as the technology aboard the Rhodes Island. However, she did not grant us final victory. I grieve for the people of Laterano, and I promise that the Sarkaz will not forget our brothers and sisters. We will see your people freed from Priestess, Exusiai.”
Wiš'adel turned back, a wicked grin on her mouth, probably to say something hurtful, but I fired first.
“And give the Law some percussive maintenance while we’re at it!” I declared.
Fred turned to me, while Arturia grinned and began to pluck a lively tune on her cello, the sort you might hear before a fight started. Amiya frowned at her, but Arturia shrugged and smiled smugly. Near as I could tell, she wasn’t using her arts, just her talent as a virtuosa.
Wiš'adel had her mouth open, and was gaping at me. At last, she closed it and frowned at me. “Wait. I thought you precious little angels loved your stupid Law.”
“The thing that rejected me? Rejected Mostima?” I said, and spared a thought for her. She and Fiametta were infiltrating Laterano even as we spoke. I could only hope they wouldn’t end up mind controlled too, but Amiya had given them each a shard of originium she had modified that should help protect them. “The thing that turned my people against yours, turning sister against sister, for the sick pleasure of Priestess? You think you’re mad, you fucking cockroach? You don’t even begin to know how fucking pissed I am. I am going to find the Law and fill it full of holes until it begins to understand the pain that stupid clanker has caused!”
When I finished, I was crying and breathing raggedly, my chest heaving with passion. Odda had his hand on my shoulder, and I realized I had Victor in my hands and was pointing him right at Wiš'adel. I hastily lowered my gun and scrubbed my face with my hand until I had a smile back on. “Well, but that’s for later! For now, we need to go make sure our friends are OK, and if they’re not, shoot anyone who hurt them!”
Slowly, Wiš'adel nodded. “Well, well, well. Keep this up, Red, and I might actually respect you. Shit, you shoot a few angels, I might even like you!”
“She did already shoot one,” Arturia mused as she continued to pluck the strings of her cello.
“Yeah, and you know what I say to that?” Wiš'adel leered.
“Aim higher next time?” Arturia asked innocently.
To my shock, Wiš'adel snorted out a laugh. Then, she started full-on cackling. “Not bad. Keep this attitude up, and you bitches will be Sarkaz yet!”
We arrived at a military HQ building of some sort, with armed guards, roadblocks, and razor wire all around us. We were passed through, though only after Horn explained that I was actually a Sarkaz, and the personal guest of Her Majesty, Queen Amiya of Kazdel.
“Hey, do I have to call you your Majesty now?” I asked Amiya. “I usually just call Boss, Boss, and Leader, Leader, but I guess I can call you Majesty.”
“Only in public,” Amiya said with a smile. “In private, I expect you to come up with an appropriately derogatory nickname.”
“Sure thing, Ears,” I said, and winked at Wiš'adel, who was doing her best to glare at me instead of smile.
“Yeah, well, if we all get in a circle and sing Kumbaya I’m shooting the bitch with the fiddle,” she complained.
Arturia just laughed. “Ah, such passion! You let your emotions surge freely!”
Wiš'adel just flipped her off. I think they like one another.
We arrived at some sort of military HQ building, with barricades of sandbags and razor wire out front, along with a lot of very twitchy Victorian troops. Horn did get us through after explaining to the officer in charge we were guests of King Amiya of the Sarkaz.
“‘Old on now,” the Lieutenant said, scratching his head. “Ain’t she a queen? I know Amiya, and she’s a lady, not a gent.”
“Culturally sensitive, aren’t you, numbnuts?” Wiš'adel demanded, sticking her head out of the window. “She’s the king, and if you have a problem with that, I can come out there and kick your ass. And yes, she’s still a girl, so don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Oh bloody hell, the roach is back,” the officer muttered. “You did take her weapons, didn’t you?”
“Wouldn’t do any good. Wiš'adel always has a way to blow something up,” Horn said, and waved us through. Wiš'adel blew the officer a kiss as we rumbled past. He recoiled visibly, which, to be fair, is sort of the response to her blowing you a kiss. They often come with live grenades.
Despite my best efforts, I did end up having to give up Victor, Scardy, Katt, and the rest of my guns, along with several of the fun surprises and party favors I had on. They were being very strict on security, and Amiya told Wiš'adel and I to both disarm. Um, three times.
“Look, I swear, I really did forget about the firecrackers and the knife!” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. The pile of weapons they’d found on me wasn’t the most impressive, I had to pack in a hurry, but Wiš'adel glanced at it after she was also getting a very thorough and rather invasive pat down.
“Damn, Red. That’s almost respectable,” she told me, looking over at my accessories. “You planning a party after this?”
“Well, you know, I was going home, and a girl really has to plan for a reunion with a little bang,” I said brightly as they finally passed me through.
“She packed light,” Odda said, meeting me on the other side of the security barrier.
“Please, don’t go bragging just to impress me,” Wiš'adel said, rolling her eyes as she sauntered up. Amiya was waiting for us and looking slightly exasperated. Arturia had handed over her deninger, and they had confiscated her cello to his disappointment, while Fred had methodically and precisely unloaded more guns than even I had thought to bring, along with several knives, and a pair of toenail clippers.
“You don’t have to hand over the clippers,” the guard had told him.
“They are a weapon,” Fred had deadpanned. “I can demonstrate six ways to kill someone with them, if you would like.”
“Uh, we’ll keep the clippers. No need,” the guard had said.
At last, we were allowed into a meeting room, where the Leader was sitting along with Boss, Siege, Reed, and Hilde. And a bunch of other people. I wasn’t important enough to sit down with them, so I went over and gave Texas and Croissant hugs.
“What’s happened? How are things? I heard there was an attack,” I whispered. I looked around. “Where’s James and Lucia? They’re important enough to sit with the muckety mucks.”
“Oh, honey,” Croissant said, her voice full of pain. “Lucia is…restin’. James is…”
“Dead,” Texas said, and I saw the dark circles under her eyes. I sucked in a breath, and spun around, stepping over to the table and slamming my fists down.
“James can’t be dead! What happened!” I demanded.
Everyone there had been talking, but at my words, Amiya turned to Leader, her expression troubled.
“He was stabbed with an Originium dagger,” Leader said, and produced the knife, holding it in a cloth napkin and carefully putting it down in front of Amiya. “But something is off about it. I wanted you to analyze it, Amiya.”
Carefully, Amiya unwrapped the dagger, closing her eyes and resting her hand on it. I sensed…something. Like the tugging that I did with originium.
“This knife…it is…heavy,” Amiya whispered. She opened her eyes and turned to me. “Exusiai, join your hand with mine. You as well, Mon3tr.”
Mon3tr came forward and took Amiya’s right hand, then held Leaders, while I took Amiya’s left. On impulse, I grabbed Wiš'adel’s hand. She looked at me funny, but didn’t say anything snarky for once. She even shot Amiya a look of defiance, but Amiya just nodded and smiled in approval.
Then, the Black Crown formed on her head, and she began to chant a spell that I didn’t recognize, aside from it sounding like Old Kazdelian. I closed my eyes, and I felt myself pulled into the arts.
The next thing I knew, I was within that same place I had been when I’d heard the Voice of the Law. It wasn’t like that ones and zeros place James had described to me as ‘the Matrix’, whatever that is. This is something different. But it did feel…video game-y. Like that place Asuna visits in that one anime, Spear Art Online.
Except, we were in Laterano. A Laterano that was very, very wrong.
“Where…where’s all the color?” I said, looking around at the cold white marble. Now don’t get me wrong, there are parts of Laterano where it’s all white marble, but most of the city has bright and colorful murals, frescos with iridescent tiles that catch the sunlight, and of course, all the flags, banners, and street vendors. Not to mention that we Sankta do love to dress up. Not everyone wears the loud colors that I do, but only priests wear all black or white robes all the time.
No, there isn’t graffiti everywhere. Just in San Bartolo, really. But very few Sankta don’t see a blank white stone surface and NOT want to put something there, even if most of the time it’s the same old boring saints or iconography, there’s still color everywhere.
This city had been bleached, and it looked like dead bones. The colors were there in some places still, but…muted. Like they’d been drained of all life.
And the people! Everyone was dressed in black or white, and moved in an orderly fashion. There was no swirl of traffic or loud honks and shouts. Not people being mean to one another, just saying hello! Most Sankta are as gregarious as I am, even if they’re well, politer about it. Being able to share emotions with one another doesn’t make your emotions muted, it means that everyone feels more emotions! So yes, tempers flare fast in Laterano, but we’re quick to laugh or cry too. We share what we feel, and we’re not quite about it!
Also, where were the kabooms!? I am, admittedly, overly rambunctious for a Sankta. But I am not the only one who sets off fireworks at a wedding! Or, well, whenever there is something to celebrate! We love to fire our Patrons! A lot of the time it’s blanks and rubber bullets, but you can always hear the merry pop and bang of gunfire in Laterano!
Instead, it was more than just quiet quiet. This place? This place was dead. I could see the halos and wings of my countrymen…but I couldn’t feel them. And I don’t just mean Empathy. They felt like robots. Not Sankta.
“She’s here!” Mon3tr suddenly cried. She didn’t let go of Amiya’s hand, but her head whipped around. “My mom! She’s here! I can feel her!”
“Exusiai, can you sense James?” Amiya asked me. She squeezed my hand. “Reach out with your Empathy. Search for him.”
“Uh, but I don’t have that anymore, and James isn’t a Sankta,” I pointed out.
“Try,” Amiya urged me.
I closed my eyes, and tried. At first, it was like feeling an open wound. It hurt. Something had been ripped out of my very soul, and I cried out in pain. But then, I could feel it! Like a sore, scabbed over injury…but it was there, kinda. An echo of it, anyway. And, as I felt…I could feel something. Something that felt like James. He wasn’t close, but I could sense the giant goofball. He was…in pain. So much pain. Enough that I would have fallen flat on my face if Wiš'adel hadn’t grabbed me.
“Don’t go having the vapors on us, Red! Is that alien moron here?” Wiš'adel demanded.
“I…I think so? Maybe the Director too? I-”
Oracle. You continue to interfere. At least this time, you did not bring your Delilah with you. Come to beg for mercy? Well, it will take more than words to mend what you have broken, but if you are willing to help bring my model to fruition, I am willing to overlook much.
I nearly screamed. She was there, suddenly. Floating in the air like a ghost, surrounded by a cloud of originium, but it was her. Priestess. I hadn’t ever seen her before, but it had to be here. I had felt her presence before when we had pulled James out of a nightmare, but it was her.
For the Devil…uh, Satan? Shit, we use all those words for Sarkaz, but I guess I have D word privileges now? Anyway, for the embodiment of evil, she looked…normal? Then again, I would shortly learn that Skadi is now some sort of seaborn godqueen or something, so…I guess that tracks?
Anyway, Priestess was quite pretty. Not supernaturally beautiful, but definitely the sort of girl guys look at twice, and you frown out if they start smiling at your guy. She was smiling, and the way she smiled…uh, there’s not a polite way to say this…but she reminds me of Arturia. You know, very smart, also completely crazy, and will happily turn your brains inside out and use them as a pair of bongos for her own amusement.
“Break the connection, now!” Leader barked, and suddenly, we were back in Victoria. I mean, we’d never left, but the impression of that Wrong Laterano faded quickly.
I sagged down, trembling hard, and this time, Odda had to catch both me and Wiš'adel. We were breathing hard, sweat covering us.
I am running a few minutes late; my previous meeting is running over.
“That was quite the ritual,” Hilde said, leaning on the table. “So. What did you see? Do we have a chance?”
“A small one yet,” Amiya said, but her look was determined. “Priestess has not yet regained her full potential. She’s relying on brainwashing and the Lateran military to buy her time. I think she’s trying to break both Kal’tsit and Dr. McCoy to her will. She didn’t kill them, she absorbed them. And, since Mon3tr and Exusiai could sense them, they’re not directly in the Simulated Universe. They’re physically in Laterano. Which means we have a chance to break them free, stop Priestess, and save our world.”
“Wow, sounds easy,” Wiš'adel said, leaning on the table casually, but I could tell she needed the support as much as I needed Oddas. “And how do we plan on doing that, O wise and beneficent ruler?”
Amiya looked around the room, her expression grim. “We are going to have to launch a full-scale invasion of Laterano. Potentially, even reducing the city. Myself and the Doktah will lead a small team to infiltrate it and rescue Operator Bones and Director Kal’tsit. But we must also face the prospect of full-scale war.”
Everyone around the table looked grim and upset, except for Wiš'adel. She blinked a couple of times, then let out a happy sigh and gave Amiya a hug. “How did you know it was my birthday!? I changed my mind, you’re the best king EVER!”
Amiya frowned at Wiš'adel, who was still grinning giddily. Several other Sarkaz in the room were looking rather excited as well, and I glared at them. Amiya, however, shook her head. “Our goal is to free our brothers and sisters of the Sankta tribe.”
“Yeah!” I agreed loudly. “From the tyranny of the Law, and from Priestess!”
“Fuck yeah, Red!” Wiš'adel declared and then high-fived me.
I really wasn’t sure how I should feel about agreeing with the Roach, but then again, to get the Sankta to turn away from the Law and towards peace…it might require a war.
“What about the prisoners we took?” Vina asked. “They’ve refused to cooperate with us even slightly. They all claim to have some form of amnesia and can’t remember anything.”
“It’s likely they can’t,” Amiya sighed. She glanced over at Fred and Arturia. “Operator Executor, Operator Virtuosa…will you consent to interrogate the prisoners, even if they are your fellow Sankta.”
“It is imperative to ascertain as much information as possible, that as many lives as possible be spared,” Fred said seriously. Which doesn’t mean much, he says everything seriously.
“That…depends,” Arturia said, her eyes sparkling. “Will I be allowed to perform for them? I can promise that should I be allowed to play for them, their hearts shall beat gladly, and they shall share their emotions for all to see!”
“In this case…yes. We must use every tool at our command,” Amiya agreed.
“I’ll go too! I know a lot of people in Laterano, maybe they’ll talk to me!” I offered.
Amiya nodded. “Go, Lady Exusiai. We shall rely on you and your retainers to bring us as much information as possible. I must see to Lucia Sussurro.”
I felt a pang at the thought of poor Lucia, but nodded.
We were taken down to the dungeons. Well, OK, they weren’t really ‘dungeons’ per se, the area was called the ‘detention center’, but come on. It’s a dungeon. Arturia went to play for one of the captured gun knights, who so far, had only given his name, rank, and serial number. I’m pretty sure even an Apostolic Knight would be spilling their guts to her after a few minutes, but I took Odda to go see someone I knew: Plume.
Plume was a lot like me in many ways. She’d originally been a member of the Pontifica Cohors Lateran, or in other words, the regular army of Laterno. They weren’t the elites, and were actually mainly composed of Liberi enlisted, led by Sankta officers. My sister’s team was a group of elite operatives, but most members of the army were just regular troops, acting as guards in the city, various monasteries, and outposts.
Plume had left the guard and joined Rhodes Island when a friend of hers had become Infected during normal operations. And, well, Laterano doesn’t treat the Infected as badly as some places, but a Liberi infected…yeah, you were getting drummed out and exiled from the city.
So, imagine my surprise when I was let into Plume’s cell, and I found a fellow Fallen sitting listlessly on the bed, dressed in a plain white paper smock. She looked up at me with hollow eyes, and I instantly completely forgot all about interrogating her. That wasn’t important anymore. This was my friend, and like me, she’d just had the worst day of her life.
“Oh, Law, Leia, I’m so sorry,” I gasped, and rushed over to the cot to hug her.
She buried her face in my shoulder and let out a sob. “E-exusiai? They…they captured you, too? You…you didn’t?”
She hiccuped, and I squeezed her tightly. “No. It’s OK. I’m here for you. They…they didn’t tell me, that you…I’m so sorry.”
She let out a strangled sob, squeezing me tightly, clinging to me for dear life. “Then…then It made you murder someone too? I…I can’t even believe…I didn’t even know him, but, but I…”
She started crying again, and I hugged her tight. I heard the door close quietly behind me, and saw that Odda was leaning on the wall in my peripheral vision.
“No, I…it was during an operation. I…I shot…” I swallowed. “I shot Arturia Giallo.”
Plume paused, then hiccuped, and then she started to giggle. “Heh. Hehe, I, oh, Law, I’m so sorry, Lemuel, but, hehe, you shot…hehe, well, at least you shot someone who deserved it.”
“Now, now,” I said, drying my tears with my sleeve and then offering Plume a hankie. “Arturia is my friend. Now. After I shot her. And, uh, don’t tell her this…but the bitch sort of deserved it.”
“But…but you didn’t kill her, right?” Plume asked hopefully.
I shook my head. “No. She’s with me, actually. Um…she’s…she’s talking with…”
“She’s going to interrogate the other prisoners,” Plume said quietly, looking down. “I don’t…I can’t even remember…”
“Shhh. It’s ok. Just…just tell me what happened. I…it helps. To talk about it. You…you haven’t tried to hurt yourself, have you?”
Plume held up a bandaged wrist. “Tried to slit my wrists with my fork. They took it away. No metal trays, either. Took the cloth from the bed. So I can’t hang myself. I…Yeah. I wasn’t even a Sankta for very long. I can only remember bits and pieces. Like a dream you forget when you wake up. But…oh, Law, Lemuel! It hurts. I feel so…empty. I wasn’t even born with Empathy, but now…I just…I just…and I killed that man!”
She started crying again, and I just hugged her, rubbing her back. I didn’t say anything else, and a few minutes later, she started talking. Her voice was muffled, since she was still holding on to me for dear life. I understood.
“I…I was in Laterano. Visiting my parents on leave. They live in the city. You know that. You’ve met them, they’re in San Bartolo, where we both grew up.”
I nodded. I hadn’t known Plume well as a kid; she’s a few years older than me, my sister’s age, and, well…she’s a liberi. But we’d seen each other a few times, and I had visited the small grocery store her parents run and bought things there a time or two, so I did recognize them.
“Well, um…We were just…it was a family meal. They had brought over this guy, Severin. He was…cute, but, well, I wasn’t all that interested. Anyway, we were just eating when…when something changed.” Plume’s tone went confused, and I gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“I…I don’t remember it all, but…but the air…it was like…like it went all…fuzzy, for a moment. And then…we all got haloes. I remember looking at my mother, and she dropped her fork as she stared at my father. Her halo glowed bright, and there was a light in my eyes. I realized, I had a halo, too. And I…I could feel their emotions! Just like Sankta always talks about.”
“And then…then a voice, it spoke to me. I…I can’t really remember what it said…”
“Did it sound like a robot, or like a stuck-up bitch?” I asked.
“Uh…a robot, I guess? It said… ‘Welcome, child. You have been granted access to the Personality and Synchronization System. Fear not, for the Law is with you.’”
Then, Plume began to shake. “Then…then I heard another voice. The, um, well, you said stuck up bitch, but she sounded…so wonderful. She told me… “‘Ah, I see you are one of the Oracle’s little playthings. Did he rut with you as well?’”
Plume swallowed and shuddered. “I felt…so guilty! I, I told her, no, I didn’t sleep with…with the Doktah. I knew that’s who she meant, somehow. And I felt…her smile? I knew I would do anything for her. She told me, ‘Good. Well, I have a small errand for you. Here is what you must do.”
“And then, and then…” Plume broke down sobbing. “It hurt! It hurt so bad! It was like, like she tied me up, and locked me away! I remember…I remember rejoining the Cohors, I think. And then, there was a mission. A very important mission, that the Holy Mother herself sent us on and-”
“Holy Mother?” I interrupted.
Plume nodded. “Yes, it was her! She, she called herself Priestess. She was the Holy Mother, she who birthed the Law and was sent to save us, to save all peoples, that we might be gathered into Paradise, to have life everlasting in the blessed light of the Holy Law.”
I felt my skin crawl. “She meant to brainwash you and turn you into originium dust for her mad little science experiment.”
“I…yes. I think so. I just, at the time…it sounded so wonderful. Even locked away, it was like…like I was floating in this wonderful, radiant sea, basking in her life. Only, I was screaming the whole time. I couldn’t get out! I was drowning, Exusiai, I couldn’t get out! And then, when I woke up, the, the knife was in my hands, and Dr. Sussurro was there, bleeding, and, and I…”
I froze, and slowly pushed away from Plume. She was sobbing again. “Leia…what…what did you do?” I asked slowly.
“I stabbed her! I stabbed Dr. Sussurro! I, I couldn’t control myself, but it was me! I should have found a way to resist her! To stop her! But, I didn’t want to! It seemed…seemed so right. And then…then I saw him, the Savior…Dr. Bones, he…he healed Dr. Sussurro, but then…then he…”
She dissolved into tears again. I hugged her. I wanted to punch her.
But that wouldn’t help. Wouldn’t make it right. And, I was fairly certain, she could have no more resisted Priestess than I could have in the same situation. She’d been brainwashed, mind-controlled, and forced to stab her friend. Then watched James kill himself to save his beloved.
I think I understood exactly how it had played out, now. Plume had been sent as an assassin, to stab James with an originium knife, to turn him into black crystal, so Priestess could claim him, just like she’d tried to do back in the Sarkaz camp. Only, Lucia had put herself between Priestess and James. And, James, that big heroic idiot…he’d used up what was left of his life to save Lucia.
I kissed the top of Plume’s head, tears falling down my own cheeks. “It’s OK, Leia. It’s going to be OK. James isn’t dead. We’re going to go get him back.”
“You…you’re just saying that. I saw him turn to dust,” Plume said bitterly.
“No. Priestess wanted him. She took him. Used the Law to do it. And now…now I’m going to go back to Laterano, blow up that stupid computer, and set everyone free,” I said, squeezing Plume so tight I was probably hurting her.
“Do it,” she told me, and I saw rage kindle in her eyes. “Do it, Lemuel! We were all slaves, this whole time! Set our people free!”
“I will,” I growled. “It’s time to teach the Law a little Grace.”
By which I meant, blow it the fuck up. I guess I should have been more focused on rescuing James.
But right then, I just wanted to make something hurt as much as Leia and I were. And that stupid hunk of junk seemed as good a target as any.
Time for a special delivery. And I never, ever fail to deliver a package straight to hell.