Silent Rising, Page 7

enhanced humans…”

  “…I’ve killed one thousand,” said Faragar.

  “In one day,” added Major Ailig. There was a sudden fear in Luthis’s eyes that turned into disbelief, and admiration in Faragar’s. The girl seemed unimpressed. I will impress you very soon, babe.

  “It will be a pleasure to have you as a leader,” said Faragar, his fist touched his chest and he bowed in honor.

  I didn’t kill them, thought Ailios, but he just smiled.

  “Mr. Ailios is an expert in breaking into ancient temples and stealing relics, and if need be he can kill.”

  But Ailios thought, I’m no killer. What happened there was an accident. Ailios did cause the accident, but he didn’t mean to. All he wanted that day was to find some ancient piece of technology he could sell for coins.

  “Mr. Ailios, do you have anything to add?”

  “Umm, yeah, actually I do. This team leader thing it’s just not my style, major. I usually work alone.”

  “Not today, Mr. Ailios.”

  “Tomorrow then.”

  The major ended the argument with a long stare.

  “Okay, major, you win. But if I am to work with other people we need to establish some rules. Rule number one: I sleep alone. I don’t want any of these creeps getting under me or over me in those military bunks of yours.” Anyone except the girl. “Rule number two,” Ailios turned to face Luthis. “You will all obey my orders, no matter how crazy they may seem. If not, I want to have your permission, major, to send the rule breaker to fly with the stars. You understand me so far, major?”

  “Mr. Ailios, you have to understand that this is not an official military assignment. As a matter of fact this is a covert operation.”

  “Oh, I do understand, major, believe me I do. But we need to have order if are to succeed, don’t you think?”

  Major Ailig turned to the group. “For the sake of the future of our tribes, you will follow these rules.”

  Luthis clenched his jaw, but nodded as the rest did.

  Ailios rubbed his hands. “Okay, now that we got that settled, where do we go next?”

  “I was hoping you would tell us that, Mr. Ailios. You are the expert, are you not?”

  “Yeah, the expert,” mumbled Ailios and saw Luthis smiling with content. Just smile, you piece of genetic trash, I’ll get you. Ailios then tried to remember the night when the accident in the temple happened. He entered the main chamber, the domed one with the writings over the walls. He saw a computer there, and it was active. He never saw an active computer inside an ancient temple before. He was intrigued, gold coins counting in his head. This is big, he thought, I can sell this for a treasure. But then he heard voices, approaching. He jumped behind the computer and hid there before the people came. They talked in a language unknown to Ailios. First he thought they were Cyons, but the language was different. Not that he spoke Cyon, (he did know couple of words, though) but he could tell when someone else spoke it, and this certainly was not it. But one word he did understand. It was a name, a place, another temple was located there, another temple he intended to visit sometime in the future.

  “We’re going on Timor,” Ailios finally said.

  “Timor?” mumbled the chameleon. “In Cyon borders? Gods, we are going to die…”

  Faragar growled. “Cyons to kill. I like you, team leader.” Ailios returned with a smile and a nod.

  “Why Timor, Mr. Ailios?” asked the major.

  “There’s an ancient temple there, right? And we’re looking for ancient temples, right? Well, why not Timor?”

  “That temple you speak of has been leveled to the ground,” said the major. “The imperial fleet bombed it when the riots took place on Palatine.” Ailios didn’t know about that, but it was the only lead he had. And even if he didn’t find anything, at least he’ll get to keep his head for few more days.

  “So?” Ailios said. “The temples have chambers underground. They may be untouched by the bombings.”

  “Timor it is then,” said the major. “And while you are there you might want to look into what happened with the archeological expedition we sent there not long ago. We lost contact with them as soon as the bombings started.”

  Ailios shrugged. “They are probably roasted,” he said, “but I promise we’ll look into it.”

  Major Ailig nodded. “One more thing,” he said. “I would strongly advise against plotting your escape. We will track you down and put you back for execution.” He smiled. For a moment it seemed as if he waited for the group to smile back – it didn’t happen of course. “Olivia,” he said and the girl stood up. “You are free to escort these men to your ship.” Major Ailig turned to Ailios and said, “She will be your pilot for the duration of this mission.” The girl turned even more beautiful now that Ailios knew she was a pilot. It made his lips turn into a smirk. Then the major leaned to his ear. “Be careful what you think in her presence – she’s a telepath.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly there was a knot tying in his stomach. He gulped. His smirk turned sour.

  She walked elegantly toward him with a smile on her face. “I’m not impressed, Mr. Ailios,” she said, and then she leaned to his ear. “And I know your little secret. Babe.”

  LUCIUS

  The cabin was too small and too tidy for his taste. Even the porthole was so small that Lucius could see nothing but blackness on the other side; maybe few stars here and there, but that was all. On the bulkhead beside him rows of medals hung arranged by their size, starting from the smallest accomplishments to the largest. Lucius recognized the Golden Star shining above like a true star. It was the highest honor for the survivors of the Battle for Luna. The battle itself was a disaster, Lucius reckoned from his history lessons, but they did manage to destroy ninety percent of the Bion fleet and hold two centuries of dominance over them. Illusionary dominance. It was nothing but a word full of pride to his fellow humans; if any of them was spotted on Talam they were as good as dead, the Bion tribes made sure it stayed that way. But not once I take my throne back.

  “Is everything in order, Your Highness?” Lucius heard Valeria’s voice from behind.

  He turned, thinking, I lost my throne, I lost my father and my friends, I lost my perfect body. I am left with a bunch of imbeciles to take my throne back, and you are asking me if everything is in order? Lucius tried to hold his anger back. It was useless emotion, he knew. It made his father reckless, and all he ever wanted was to be better than him, to learn from his mistakes. But now it seemed that anger was all he was left with.

  “You and the captain share this cabin,” Lucius said.

  Valeria opened her mouth as if groping for words. “It is not how it seems…”

  Lucius turned to look at the other bulkhead above the sleeping platform and wires. “It does not concern me,” he said, “as long as it does not interfere with your duties.” His eyes caught an image next to the Aquila’s golden banner.

  Valeria didn’t notice where Lucius was staring. She said, “Arrius used most of his ship’s space for storing weapons and ammunition. He said it was more efficient. There are others who share recharging units as well…”

  She would never call the captain by his name if they weren’t closer than what she claimed them to be. “You mean the captain,” Lucius said, his eyes still on the image. There were three men on it, standing over a hilltop covered in Bion bodies.

  “Yes, the captain. He–” She caught him stare at the image. She rushed and touched a button under it and the image flickered off. “I apologize for that, Your Highness. I did not mean to cause you any–”

  “It’s okay. You can turn it back on.”

  She hesitated, then pressed the button again. The image flickered on. Valeria stood beside it, her hands clasped in front of her. “It is … mine,” she said.

  “Olybrius,” Lucius whispered, his words barely leaving his lips, “Macrinus…”

  “And you, Your Highness.”

  “And me.” Lucius nodded.


  “You were the sole inspiration to our men, to me. You were our idols.”

  “Were.” Lucius felt the bitterness of that.

  “I mean, because your companions died–”

  “We don’t know that,” he said, although he was perfectly aware of how slim the chances were for them to have survived Timor. He still couldn’t believe they were gone. Olybrius and Lucius grew up together, went to the academy together. That’s when Macrinus joined them, the trueborn son of Admiral Septimus Julius Crus, a man that Emperor Titus trusted the most. Lucius had spent all his life with Olybrius and Macrinus. Two great friends. Now he was left alone.

  Lucius’s wheels drove him closer to the image, his arm extended over the platform and he touched the image. The tip of his fingers trailed his friends’ contours as if to say his goodbyes.

  Valeria opened her mouth to say something, but closed it as they both received Arrius’s transmission – Attention all personnel! We are approaching Burnum. Prepare for deceleration.

  I am on my way to the bridge – Lucius sent back.

  For the duration of their slowing down, the emperor was sitting at the command seat, leaning back at an awkward angle and squirming all the time. And how could it not be at an awkward angle? His entire body was freakishly awkward and weak and obsolete. His priority was getting a pair of legs – that was indisputable – and then some weapons, and then a new hand instead of that antiquated claw he had. He winced at the thought that he wasn’t the best Imperial solider anymore, but a loathsome rusty cripple. And Burnum was going to fix that. It was one of those gods’ forsaken outposts, well hidden in the asteroid field that kept all sorts of machinery and cybernetic parts for its personnel. There has to be a pair of legs I can use. But Lucius didn’t choose this outpost only because of its marginal location. This was the place where one of the best Imperial doctors was stationed. If someone could improve his body it would be Captain Dillius.

  The emperor was looking straight forward through the massive screen as the outpost got larger and closer. “Keep a steady course,” he said. He then looked down at Arrius who was standing on a lower step – no one could be standing higher than the emperor no matter if the emperor was sitting or not. “Have they answered our hails?”

  “No, Your Highness. We haven’t intercepted any outgoing communications from the outpost since we arrived.”

  Lucius fixed his eyes on Burnum, thinking. That is odd. Aquila had an Imperial IFF. The outpost would recognize the ship as one of their own. They had to respond one way or another.

  “Your Highness,” said Arrius. Lucius looked down on him again. “I do not want to trifle you, but I have to ask.”

  “I told you already, captain. This outpost will not be defended. If the rumors are true, than every ship the empire has will be heading for Palatine, there is no doubt about it.”

  Arrius looked down, not nearly convinced, and then looked up again. “But what if they left a single battleship, for just in case? We are not ready for battle. You know that, Your Highness.”

  “Trust me on this, captain. This outpost is known only to a small group of people. I doubt they will be expecting attack.”

  Arrius let go of it. “As you will, Your Highness.”

  “What is the status of our fleet?” asked Lucius.

  “All ships are in position, Your Highness,” said Valeria. She sat across from the emperor, tapping buttons on a computer screen and coordinating the fleet.

  Good. “Commence the attack.”

  “Acknowledged. Commencing attack.”

  A group of five fighters passed by Aquila’s screen and sped toward the outpost. Ten more dots in the distance were marked in green as well. Those were some of the merchant ships that were closing in on their target. They had no weapons on board, except for close range, but Lucius decided to sacrifice them. They were to get closer and draw Burnum’s