Edward (23 page)

Edward
sat on the back of Zoë’s motorbike as Trevor ran down the last few
details.  “If the warheads are still in an unoccupied area, but you can’t get
quite close enough, we’ll get the humans to drop a few of Thor’s hammers on
them.  Just get out safe.  The 1212
^th
CSOG is on
standby.  Half by gunship, half in an aerostat at 50km
up with reentry pods ready to light up.   Get in, get
out.  You only fail if you don’t get Zoë out; the rest is just a
gamble.  You know how hard you stress your system folding the bigger
stuff, so pace yourself.  Swift if you have to…”

“Just
bring your
daughter
home.  I understand already!  Let’s roll!”

The
rear of the gunship opened, and Zoë gunned the engine on the bike, launching
them off the ramp at an exhilarating pace.

“I
guess asking about the engine governor is moot,” said Zoë over the intercom.

“Not
only that, but I think they swapped out your engine too,” replied Edward.

“Then
let’s find out what they did do!”  Zoë cranked the throttle all the way
open and the world quickly became a blur.  Traffic on this side of town
was light on a normal day, even less so with the gangs riding in full
display.  Zoë paid them no mind and she rocketed through the old
industrial district and headed toward an abandoned waste water treatment
plant. 

At
the edge of the treatment plant a motorbike pulled out and blocked her
path.  Zoë gunned the engine again, breaking traction and sending the
entire bike drifting.  She expertly rode the brakes so they power slid the
bike right up next to the sentry.

Zoë
popped her visor and glared, “You are blocking my path.  Move it, serf.”

“I
guard the Realm for…”

“You
are a serf of the Tree of Fire tribe.  Move out of my way.  I am the
daughter of Deacon Sylva.”

That
caught him for a loop, “And the other?”

“My fiancé. 
We’re here to meet Dad.  You really want to get in the way?”

“Prove
you are who you say…”

“Catch
me,
serf
…”  Zoë gunned her engine and rocketed forward and around
him.  She opened the engine up wide as they maneuvered across the old
plant.  The sentry was left in the dust and had no chance of catching up.

“And
that proves what?” asked Edward with a grin.

“Actually
you aren’t allowed to have a bike better than your station, so it sort of fits
the bill,” she laughed.

“And
with the mods on this bike, what would be your station?”

Zoë
grinned as they continued to accelerate, “
God!
”

Two
more bikes formed up in front of them and came charging at them.  They
looked a bit more serious than Edward was comfortable with.

“Would
they kill themselves to protect this place?” asked Edward more than a little
uneasy.

“Yes. 
But don’t do any armor stunts.  I have this.”

Trust,
all good relationships were built on a foundation of trust.  Edward was
used to having other people trust him; the reverse was uncomfortable, but he
set his mind to it.  It was Zoë, his fiancée, at the controls.

Zoë
aimed her bike square at the closest rider and ran straight at him. With well
more than a hundred meters to spare, he swerved clear.  “Someone will get
lashed for that,” Zoë mused as she turned to face down the second bike.

Closer
and closer it came, and Zoë kept laying on the speed.  They hit the point of
no return, even if they wanted to turn it would be a losing fight with inertia,
and Zoë flicked the controls overriding the airfoils on the front of her
bike.  The entire bike leaped into the air and over the other bike, but
not the other rider.  The landing was a little rough, but Zoë handled it
expertly.

“That
was gross.”

“Yeah… ick… sorry about that.  I thought he would dodge and the bike’s balance is a
little nose heavy.”

“I
assume this place is a back door?”

“Shh. 
It’s a secret,” Zoë laughed.  “
Father
will be pissed that I brought
you in this way. But the front door seemed a little tense, so he can just deal
with it.”

Zoë
slowed the bike dramatically as she started to thread through some dilapidated
equipment.  It soon became obvious they had an escort, three bikes
discreetly following in the distance.  She slowed further as they
descended into an empty waste handling tank and approached a series of massive
pipes on the far wall.  Easily five meters in diameter, they had long ago
been abandoned and fed deep into the side of the hill.

“Old
waste water pipe?” asked Edward.

“Actually,
fresh water pipe used to dilute the waste water.  It happens to feed back
over to the dockyards where the same feed was used to help flood the locks and
float the ships and barges under construction.”

“I
figured they’d just use salt water for that.”

“Nope,
they avoid salt water feeds.  Too many barnacles and other creepy crawlies
try to live in those pipes.  Wreck the valves and things.  Ethan
could give you a four hour seminar on them.”

Edward
laughed, “No, I’m fine.  Your version was good.”  Edward stole a
glace over their shoulder; their escort was still there.  “You worried
about them?”

“I’m
more worried about the condition of this tunnel; there are some nasty parts
where it has tried to cave in.  Keep your eyes open and your grip tight.”

Edward
needed no reminder on the latter.  His earlier outing on Zoë’s bike had
been more than a little nerve wracking.  This time around, there were a
lot of grumpy people and Trevor and Takru’s people had been playing with her
bike.  Like it needed more power.

They
threaded through the long cavern of pipes for almost half an hour before they
finally opened up into the dock yards and their monstrously huge locks and work
yards.  Any sighs of relief, however, were quickly squelched by the sheer
number of people watching them in the distance.  Zoë pulled up to the edge
of a very grim and bleak work area where she was challenged by a single biker
on the ground, while two Taik, high overhead, watched with weapons at the
ready.

“Zoë
Sylva?  So the sentry did speak the truth.  You father will be
pleased to see you.  But not him,” he finished with a snarl.

“He
is my fiancé, so don’t even think about it,” replied Zoë with an icy breath.

“Fiancé.  Really.  Well, then, we’ll just go talk to your
father.”  He gunned his engine noisily and drove into the work yard.

Zoë
cracked the throttle and quickly and all but silently shot past the man before
cutting him off hard, sending him skidding into some storage barrels, “I lead,
you follow.  That is the order of things,” Zoë snarled.

The
man righted his bike and offered a feeble bow before dutifully following Zoë
the rest of the way in.

Zoë
dismounted and Edward followed close behind as they marched their way to a
large warehouse whose windows had long since been sealed over with sheet metal
and plywood.  They were stopped at the door by a well-armed man in long
purple robes.  “Do you not think your bike is beyond your station, young
Sylva?”

“It
was a gift from my blood brother and from my friends.  To refuse a gift
would insult them and their kindness.  Modesty demands that I accept their
gift as it was meant.”

The
man cracked the first smile Edward had seen all morning, “Your wit still serves
you well, young Sylva.  Your father is inside.  Who should I announce
as your companion?”

“This
is Edward Silverglade, and he is my fiancé.”

The
man bowed and let Zoë walk first while he walked beside Edward and looked him
up and down.  “Come for permission?”

“Only
if Zoë wishes to ask for it,” Edward replied matter-of-factly.

“You
would not be the man of the family?  You would let her speak for you?”

“She
is the strong-willed one; I anticipate she will be the First Mother.  It
is the business of the First Mother to speak for the family.  It is my job
to make sure no harm comes of any of them.”

That
got a curious look from the man.  Apparently, Highland culture was not in
his repertoire.

A
somewhat older man dressed in red came forward to meet them.  He had a brown
and black coat, not unlike Zoë’s, but it had also been dyed and painted as
well.  He was neat and clean, if not still a bit creepy looking. 
“Zoë, it is so good to see you again.  And this is?”

“Edward
Silverglade, her fiancé,” announced the man in purple.

“Leave
us, we will be fine.”

The
man bowed before turning and leaving.

“‘We
will be fine’ is parlance for, ‘listen at the doors and get ready to shoot to
kill,’” offered Zoë to Edward.

“Suspicious, daughter?”

“Experienced,
father
.”

The
man laughed at that, “Where are my manners; I am Zoë’s father quite obviously:
Deacon Sylva to the masses.  If you are indeed her fiancé, then you may
call me Richard.”

“We
are to be married, the question is when and where, not if,” replied Edward
evenly.

“I
was certain I saw you hanging off of the governor’s daughter’s arm as well,”
teased Richard.

“Tatiana;
we too are engaged.”

“To both?” 
That brought out a cryptic smile, “You are a long way from home, Highlander.”

“That
just makes life complicated culturally.  The end result is still the
same.”

“So,
have you come just to show off your charming young Highlander, or did you come
to talk about the somewhat distracted, governor.”

“It
was a desire that you two meet at some point, but the timing was accelerated by
the gangs’ actions.”

“The
Church’s actions,” corrected Richard.  “So you
have
come for the
governor.”

“No, sir.”

“No? 
Really?”

“We
will take him if he is offered, but I came to ask you a question: will you
really let the Rector kill half a million people?  Those bombs you stole
are not the way to enlightenment.”

“What
would you know of enlightenment!” snapped Richard as he drew himself up to full
height.

“According
to you, I know what enlightenment
isn’t
!”  Zoë snapped back.

There
was a tense pause before Richard broke out laughing, “You were a most excellent
student; if you only listened with your heart.”

“My
heart was into music.  My heart isn’t about killing half a million
people.  My heart is still grieving for what you did to Rachel.  Not
just her death, but what you did to her in life as well!” snarled Zoë with
fangs flashing.

“Her
gift was in her physical beauty and her ability to make people happy.”

“She
was a pretty girl who you kept stoned off her tail so you could pass her off
for sexual favors!”

“You
don’t think she enjoyed her calling?”

“I
have no idea.  Neither do you.  But I doubt it.  It was only
ever the drugs that did the talking.”

“Her
death was a horrible accident…,” Richard offered softly.

“Her life
was hell and her death was a statistic waiting to happen!” Zoë snarled.

Richard
shook his head as he suddenly changed the subject, “Does Ethan still hold his
love for the Seas?”

“Yes. 
Yes, he does.  And because of good friends, good people, he has a chance
to go to some very excellent schools.”

“I
don’t trust the schools, but I do at least understand his love of the
Seas.  I understand your love of Music too, Zoë.  Your music is
powerful and honest; it really shows your inner strength.”

“How
can you profess your love and understanding of us when half a million people’s
lives are at stake?  We wouldn’t want them to die.  We want them to
live and experience the joy and love that is life.”

“I do
too,” smiled Richard.  “But it is beyond me.  The Rector has spoken
and it will come to pass.”

“You
can speak against him!  If the Deacons speak against him and the Night of
Souls, then the Rector will be struck down!”

Richard
shook his head, “You don’t understand child, you still don’t understand. 
There are many paths and the Rector is trying a new one.  Several of the
tribes will protest, several will dance at the flames, but the balance is
maintained.”

“It
isn’t like you are planting trees there.  It is just death, no life out of
death.  Just death.”

“The
Rector believes in this Path.  He believes in it strongly enough that he
is more than willing to risk his own death to see it pass.”

“You
said yourself that you want them to live!  Help us stop the bombs. 
We can render them safe if we can just get to them.”

Richard
shook his head, “That would be direct action against the Rector himself.  That I will not do.”

“Killing
a bunch of people won’t make them pious, it’ll just make them dead.”

“Accidents
happen.”

“
Non sequitur!
 
You always spoke of the glorious beauty within. Where is the beauty to be found
in death?”

“You
just don’t understand, do you?” smiled Richard.

“No,
I don’t!  I
think
about things, and I am appalled.  I
feel
about things, and I am disgusted.  No good will come
of this.”

“You
still see with the eyes of a child…”

“I
see with the eyes of someone that wants to start a family!  I see what
type of world I want to bring my children into, and death and destruction are
not it!”

Richard
smiled at Edward, “And what of you?  Death and destruction seem to be the
path of all Silverglades.  Llewellyn proved that.”

“Then
you know us poorly at best, and you know my brother least of all.  We
protect our families.  We just do it better than most.  Clan
Silverglade is not important.  It is the House we live in that matters.”