Ouroboros 4: End (10 page)

He did nothing but try to build her up. From his kind words to his impassioned defenses of her, Carson was constantly attempting to make her feel better about herself.

His words couldn’t wash away the guilt.

It was stuck inside her like a burning ball, lodged right under her throat.

Maybe it came from the entity, maybe it didn’t.

It was there though. Growing bigger all the time. Begging, no, forcing her to do something.

She could not stand by and watch the Coalition fall, yet nor could she do nothing for the Vex.

‘Just . . . hold on,’ he suddenly begged, dropping his hand from her cheek as he turned to the view.

She caught a glimpse of his expression in the reflection from the smooth glass. His lips were drawn into a thin line, all cheer gone from his cheeks and eyes.

He was under pressure from every direction. From her, from the Admiral, from the Coalition.

‘Hold on, Nida,’ he repeated as he brushed his hand heavily over the back of his short, stubbly hair. ‘It’ll all be over soon.’

Something about his tone caught her attention. Pushing Bradley from her mind, she faced him. ‘What happened at the Board meeting? Are you allowed to tell me?’

He looked uncomfortable.

Before, she’d been unable to face him. Now it seemed he couldn’t face her.

‘They made their decision,’ he said tonelessly.

‘I’m not allowed to know, am I? I understand, I’m just a cadet.’

He turned sharply now. ‘No, Nida, you are not just a cadet. Bradley was wrong, for god’s sake. So was Sharpe. Heck, so was I when I first met you. You’re more than they think you are. Nida, think about what you’ve achieved. Don’t let the entity’s guilt affect you, don’t let it cloud your judgment. You pushed through the entity’s control, you got us to the future and back again.’

‘Anyone could have done that,’ she whispered.

He snorted gruffly. ‘Ha? Really? You honestly think that? Nida, I’ve been on more missions than I can count. I’m telling you as the head of the Force, few other people could have done what you did. I’ll admit, you may not have the best technical skills. Okay, they’re kind of woeful—but you can work on them. What you have instead is stamina, grit. You don’t give up. Remember how the Vex locked us in those illusions? I bought mine, without a question. You fought. And you kept fighting until you broke us both free.’

‘You’re overstating things, Carson.’

‘No, Nida, I’m not,’ his voice rose in anger. Not viciousness, but blunt surprise at her apparent ignorance. ‘Listen to me. I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel better—I’m telling you because it’s the truth. I know it must be hard to put up with the entity in your head, but don’t buy into its guilt. Don’t let it diminish what you’ve achieved.’

She opened her mouth to protest. She stopped.

His gaze burned as it locked on hers. In fact, there was so much passion distilled in his expression, it was a wonder his face didn’t pop.

He really meant it, didn’t he?

Her realization quietened her, sending a thoughtful stillness descending through her body.

As it did, her left hand twitched.

Carson noted it with a quick jerk of his head. ‘You okay?’

‘Hmm? Yeah, of course.’

He let out a breath.

‘. . . Thanks for coming to my defense with Bradley. Maybe you’re right, and I’m better than I think, but his words were hard to ignore. I’ve heard them before, and now, more than ever, they seem poignant. I . . . don’t really want to admit this to you, but I should. I can’t help thinking . . . no, obsessing over the fact I should be doing more. I know you told me that we’ll concentrate on saving the Vex once we’ve saved the Coalition, but I . . . I can’t push away the guilt. I have access to the entity, to its power. But that power comes at a cost—if I use it, I can’t help thinking I should be using it to save the Vex.’

Carson withdrew into a pointed, watchful silence. In fact, as he stood there, his form outlined by the streaming sunshine slicing through the window, he appeared to survey her completely.

Was he looking for any sign the entity was once more taking control?

She shifted uncomfortably, unconsciously clutching her left hand into a fist and tapping it on her leg.

Immediately he leaned down, pulled her fingers from her palm, and locked his hand over hers.

She blinked at the suddenness and directness of his move. ‘Carson?’

‘Just trust me. It’ll all be over soon.’ There was a reserved edge to his words. He also didn’t look at her directly, preferring to stare at her left shoulder instead, then down to her hand and the TI device over her wrist.

‘Carson?’

‘Just trust me,’ he repeated. ‘Please. We’re going to do what’s best for . . . everyone. We’ll fix this.’

She couldn’t be sure, but it felt as if he was holding back. On what, she couldn’t tell.

She didn’t push, though. If it had to do with the Board’s decision, she knew he wouldn’t be allowed to tell her.

Carson was already under enough pressure without her adding to it.

‘I trust you,’ she affirmed quietly, realizing she really did.

He was her rock, wasn’t he? Despite the violent storm of guilt the entity forced upon her, Carson’s presence gave her constant hope.

He would do the best thing for everyone.

He was Carson frigging Blake.

She smiled.

It wasn’t forced, nor was it a faked attempt at relieving him. It was genuine, and for the first time since she'd reached Earth, she felt a measure of happiness.

It wouldn’t last.

They were still on the knife’s edge.

Carson Blake

He’d never felt guilt like this. It assailed him like wave after wave of Barbarian warriors. It hammered and pummeled every scrap of happiness he enjoyed at her presence.

Christ, it felt like swallowing knives.

Here he was, assuring her it would be fine, when he knew it wouldn’t be.

The Coalition were going to destroy Remus 12. The Vex and their cursed timeline would be completely obliterated. Wiped from history as the burning remains of that planet exploded into space.

Though he tried to keep a smile on his face, it was using all his energy to keep his lips fixed and his cheeks pressed against his eyes.

What would she do when he eventually had to tell her?

Would she break up with him? That was a given. He would have lied to her; he’d deserve it.

But what would the entity do?

It was still controlling her, wasn’t it?

Subtly.

Sure, it wasn’t forcing objects to hurtle around her. But it was taking hold of her emotions and warping them towards itself.

She’d spoken of her guilt at being unable to help the Vex. Though Nida was a genuinely kind person, and would of course feel for the Vex’s plight, he just knew the brunt of her guilt came from the entity.

He didn’t know what to do about it, though.

Would the entity break through and control her again? According to all scans on Nida and her modified TI, that would be impossible.

It might not need to though. If it manipulated her enough, it could still get her to do what it wanted.

Carson felt sick. Powerfully, powerfully sick. His stomach wasn’t just doing loops, it was travelling at light speed as it twisted and contorted.

He had no idea what to do.

Though he would have to tell her the truth at some point, he couldn’t do it now.

She was looking happy, or a measure of happy, for the first time in days.

He couldn’t tear her down.

So he stood there instead, smiling as heartily as he could, even though his heart was icy cold.

‘Thanks, Carson,’ she suddenly broke the silence. She also looked at him lovingly. ‘I couldn’t do this without you. I know you keep telling me I’m better than I think, but I’m still not as good as you. You’re incredible. I mean, you’re not just great at being a security officer, you’re so moral. You always do what’s right, always look after the weak. You’re incredible,’ she repeated.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t say anything.

He let her words sink into his skin like barbs.

He always looked after the weak and did what was right?

He was about to commit mass genocide by obliterating Remus 12.

He kept telling himself it was the only way—and the Board agreed—but if he was wrong, he’d condemn not just one planet full of people, but 5000 years’ wroth.

That wasn’t the actions of someone incredible; it was the actions of a monster.

Carson tried to push back his thoughts, it was near impossible.

Guilt didn’t simply assail him anymore, it grew so fast in his gut, it felt like an infection spreading through his body. By the time it reached his heart, he wanted to keel over.

What was he doing?

What was he doing?

If Carson were thinking normally, he’d affirm he was saving the Coalition.

The only way to save everyone he cared about, was to destroy Vex.

The planet was broken anyway. In many ways, he’d be doing them a favor. He’d prevent that cursed planet from going through another iteration.

. . . .

He had no right to think like that.

As Nida looked up at him, and even moved closer, resting her head on his chest as she let out a soft breath, he nearly shook.

He didn’t deserve this.

Her admiration. Her love.

He was about to destroy Vex. He could pretend he’d be doing them a favor.

He’d be killing them.

He could pretend it was the only way to be sure the Coalition would survive, but he didn’t know that.

He was trapped.

Caught between protecting his own and sacrificing a whole race to do so.

In many ways, the decision wasn’t really his, and he could push away the guilt. The Admiral and the Board had made the final call.

Even if he backed out now, they wouldn’t care.

It was beyond him.

And yet it wasn’t.

He’d advocated for the destruction of Vex, and he’d never wash the blood from his hands.

He tensed, a cold sensation flooding through his chest. It felt like he’d just swallowed a whole ice planet, and the damn thing had lodged in his throat.

‘Carson?’ Nida glanced at him questioningly as she pulled back, a worried look smoothing her brow. ‘Are you okay? I’m sorry if I was pathetic before. You’ve helped me realize I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. This guilt,’ she swallowed hard, and he could feel the move as it reverberated down her arm and into his, ‘isn’t completely mine. I’ll try to control it. I’ll do what’s right for the Coalition, then I’ll turn my attention to helping the Vex.’

He stepped back from her. No, he jerked away, as if he’d been burnt.

Startled, she held out her hand cautiously. ‘What? Have I done something wrong?’

He laughed. At himself. It was bitter, it was sharp, and it hurt.

Had she done something wrong? No. He had.

‘Carson?’

‘Nida, look, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,’ the words broke free.

‘What?’

‘Nida . . . I . . ..’

‘What, Carson?’

‘They’re going to destroy it,’ he admitted.

He was meant to be a lieutenant in the Coalition. He was meant to be diligent, focused, and trained.

He shouldn't be breaking down and revealing the truth like this. Yes, she needed to know. But he had to be careful.

He couldn’t stop himself though.

Guilt crawled up his spine, crumbling the vertebrae as it did.

‘Destroy what?’ she looked cold, her skin so pale it reminded him of the white icy sheen that picked up along the sides of vessels that flew too close to comets.

He tried to stop himself. He tried to force his training to take hold as he desperately attempted to corral his emotions.

It wouldn’t work.

She had to know.

‘Remus 12. They’re . . . we’re going to destroy it.’

She didn’t say anything.

In fact, she didn’t move. Not even a blink.

Her hand was still held out to him.

It looked like it was carved out of stone.

‘I am so sorry. Nida . . . I just . . . it was the only way. I mean it is the only way. Or I think it’s the only way. Or, shit, I don’t know,’ his words stuck in his throat, and it was murder to force them out.

Not as horrifying as her expression though.

Slowly she thawed, the stiff, locked tension to her body shifting. Then her expression changed. It . . . twisted. Not with anger, but with grief.

Overwhelming grief.

Tears flooded her eyes. ‘What? No. No, they can’t do that. They can’t destroy the Vex. I have to fix it. I . . . we have to do something,’ she sobbed.

‘Nida, I’m so sorry. It’s the only way to be sure the Coalition will survive.’

She shook her head, tears flying from her cheeks at the frantic speed of her move.

He tried to shift towards her. She jerked back.

‘I can’t let them die. They can’t die,’ she begged.

Carson watched in horror.

Blue light began to amass around her left hand.

The light was not powerful enough to bleed up the rest of her arm, but it was noticeable, and cast a distinct glow against her leg.

‘Nida,’ he choked, ‘you’ve got to calm down. Nida, please,’ he twitched forward.

She clamped her hands over her face, jerking backwards like a live wire snapping free from its casing.

‘Nida,’ he reached her, and fell to his knees. ‘Nida, the entity is forcing its way through. Nida, listen to my voice. You’ve got to fight it.’

She kept her hands riveted over her eyes, and he could see tears filter through them.

She stopped twitching backwards though.

He didn’t know what to do.

Call security, and it would freak her out. The last thing she needed now was a distraction. The only hope he had was for her to regain control.

He’d never felt so powerless in his life.

‘Please, just calm down. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Just regain control. Nida, push past it. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything. Just fight it.’

She stopped sobbing.

It wasn’t a sign she’d regained control though.

Instead, an eerie silence spread through the room.

She wasn’t even breathing.

‘. . . Nida?’

She stood with her hands pressed so tightly into her face, the skin underneath was white from the pressure.

He swallowed, fear spiking through his heart.

He watched her hand, transfixed by the blue light, waiting for it to erupt out and encase her in full.

It didn’t.

Instead it receded.

It was categorically the most fraught experience of his life.

Eventually, however, it was over.

Nida let her hands fall.

She was back.

The blue light was back to being nothing but a faintly discernable glow.

He let out a breath that had stuck in his chest like a cork in a bottle. ‘ . . . Nida?’ he tried tentatively.

She looked wobbly, and had to press a hand into the window for support.

Her cheeks were blotchy from crying, the rest of her skin pale as powdered bone from the shock of her fight.

‘Are you okay?’ he slowly, carefully got to his feet and reached out to her.

The entity could erupt at any moment and fling him towards the ceiling.

He didn’t care.

He wanted to reach her.

She planted her right hand over the TI and slowly nodded.

‘I . . . I’ve got it. The shock of . . . of finding out what . . . is going to happen,’ she slurred her words, as if she couldn’t afford the energy to speak properly, ‘unsettled my control. I let it get through,’ she admitted.

He nodded, his neck so tense it felt like moving a tree trunk. ‘You’re okay now, though?’

She blinked languidly, but offered a mumbled, ‘yes.’

He breathed hard. Relief washed through him, though not completely.

She looked at him. Despite the fact she looked worn out, a sharpness returned to her gaze. ‘They’re going to destroy Remus 12?’

He couldn’t lie. So he nodded. Again it felt like moving a tree trunk. It also felt like breaking up with her.

Christ, they’d only been together for less than a few days. A few wild, insane days.

And he’d ruined it.

‘I’m so sorry, Nida. I . . .’ he couldn’t defend himself.

She looked nauseous, and clamped the back of her hand to her mouth.

She didn’t say anything.

It was hell to endure her silence.

Moments before, she’d thought he was incredible. What did she think of him now?

‘I . . . can’t defend what I’ve done. The decision is out of my hands now, but that doesn’t change the fact I . . . agreed with it. I thought, and maybe still think, destroying Remus 12 is the only way,’ he admitted painfully.

She watched him.

What she thought, he could only begin to imagine.

He guessed it would be hatred and revulsion.

‘So many lives are at stake,’ he tried to reason, his words quiet as his resolve crumbled before her gaze, ‘the Coalition can’t risk losing to the Vex. They can’t risk fighting them only for their ships to break through any containment line. They can’t risk evacuating Earth, nor do they have the time. They just can’t risk it. It’s the only way to be sure we’ll all survive.’

‘But the Vex will all die.’

‘It’s us or them.’

She stared at him, her attention fixed. Her gaze so piercing, her eyes felt like searchlights. ‘Why?’

‘Because . . .’ he pushed a sweaty, shaking hand through his short hair, ‘that’s the way it is sometimes.’

That’s the way it is sometimes? What kind of explanation was that? Here was his chance to convince her they were doing the right thing. He was stuffing it up. Why? He was no longer sure he was doing the right thing . . . .

Maybe she could see his hesitation, because she looked up at him sharply, her usually soft eyes narrowing in clear confusion. ‘Carson?’ she questioned directly, ‘you don’t believe that, do you? You lived through exactly the same experience I did. Granted, you don’t have the entity,’ she noted in a shaking voice as she brought a hand up and clutched her collar, ‘and maybe you’re not as affected by shame as I am. But you’ve met the Vex. Yes, they’re brutal, and yes, they’re willing to do whatever it takes to survive. But we can’t fault them on that, because we're exactly the same. The Coalition is willing to completely obliterate Remus 12, knowing it will condemn the Vex forever. Surely there’s another way.’