Shadow Fall (The Shadow Saga) (55 page)

Set against the rain and blood that stained Derek’s palm was a silver X-shaped pin—the grand admiral’s rank pin.

“Sir,” two soldiers motioned to the body of his fallen partner. “What should we do with the body?”

Derek hesitated, then stood and responded coldly, “Follow procedure. Destroy it.”

45

L
IZ HAD HEARD THE
news as the fleet made its final preparations for battle. Word traveled through the Imperial Guard like a shockwave, as most deemed the Battle of the Central Square to be a great loss for the World System and thus great tidings for the Imperial Conglomerate of Cities. The tally stood with Grand Admiral Donalson dead, the rebel commander Grace Sawyer at large once again, and both Admiral McCall and the Shadow Soldier declared traitors.

It had been three days now, yet still she couldn’t get 301 out of her head. Things had changed between them by the time of her departure, but it was still difficult to think of him as being gone. They had grown up together in the Capital Orphanage, had been allies there and in their soldier training. In their teenage years she had been sure that he loved her, and for that reason was afraid to love him back. Now she would never know what they might have been…he was lost to her forever.

He already was
, she thought.
He would never look at me the same again, not after I betrayed him
. When she learned that he had thrown in his lot with the rebellion she felt sure that he would have come with her during the separation if she had only asked. He obviously bore no lasting loyalty to the World System. Perhaps then he would be standing beside her now rather than being burnt to ash in some Alexandrian alley.

She stared out beyond the deck of
Infallible
to the calm sea, feeling the rush of wind as it blew through her hair. It was so peaceful, and she wanted to hold on to it for as long as she could. For at the end of this journey there would be no peace. When they reached their destination it would be war, and the destruction would not stop until one government fell to the mercies of the other.

“Still pining away after that Shadow Soldier, I see.”

Liz didn’t bother to turn as Justus came up beside her, leaning over on the railing as though he was on a yacht.
I am the Chief of Command, you disrespectful fool,
she wanted to say. But she didn’t, as she knew Justus to be the kind of man who thrived off the imbalance of others. If he thought his actions bothered her, he would only repeat them.

“Major,” she said, using the rank Sullivan had given him. “I trust you and your men are ready. I expect to make landfall in less than an hour.”

“We’ve been ready, Chief,” he grinned. “But seriously, what is it—
was
it, sorry—about that guy? I hear he had Miss USA, that Grace Sawyer, wrapped around his finger as well. Two of the world’s youngest, hottest, most powerful women…just curious to know his secret.”

“He and I were close, once,” she replied with a slight edge in her voice. “But that ended long ago. As to his secrets, I suppose they died with him.”
Though he had many
, she reflected. No official announcement had been made declaring his true identity, as she suspected the System wanted to keep that quiet. But she knew, as did a select few others, that he hadn’t simply been another enigma in the World System. He had been the son of a legend.

“You don’t trust me very much, Chief Aurora. I find that ironic considering you were the one who came to me with this insane plan.”

“I needed you,” Liz replied. “But no, I do not trust you. I saw the look in your eyes when you agreed to help us, Major, and it was not the look of a desperate man. You have your own agenda in this, though I can’t imagine what there could be for you in Alexandria.”

“Not Alexandria, per se,” Justus said. “But well done. I thought perhaps I might keep at least this one thing to myself, but it seems I underestimated you. What were you before Sullivan sullied your allegiance to the World System?”

“I was a Specter,” she said, placing a hand self-consciously on her Gladius.
Not the best, perhaps, but a Specter all the same
. “And before that I was an intelligence officer working in London.”

“Ah, London,” Justus nodded. “A terrible mess what happened with London and Edinburgh just before my rebellion gained traction. If they had held out a little longer we might have joined forces.”

“Neither of you even made safe your cities,” Liz retorted. “A fleeting dream that you might have sent any form of aid to one another. But yes, it was a mess, after. Part of my job was rooting out their rebel leaders and overseeing their interrogations. I did the same with Silent Thunder in Specter, but that’s not where this conversation is headed, is it? You work for me now, Major Justus. Tell me your endgame.”

Justus let out a short laugh, “There is no endgame, Chief Aurora…just a fool’s hope.”

“Armed only with hope some rebels become kings,” Liz replied. “Tell me.”

“You know, most say that Napoleon Alexander would not have been able to forge the World System without the aid of the US fleet, most notably this grand ship of yours we sail upon at this very moment. The government of that time hid it away with the hope that some of its absentee members might return and use it to push back the Persians. But instead they were used to prop history’s most powerful dictator on his throne. A testament to the value of the biggest stick.”

“So you want to what?” Liz asked. “Steal the fleet?”

“No,” he grinned. “I want to find an even bigger stick.”

She laughed, “I’m sure you would.”

“Have you ever heard of Doctor Reginald Rose, Chief?”

“Of course I have,” she said. “The inventor of Solithium.”

“And the Spectral Gladius, and more besides,” Justus said. “But what you may not know is that the Spectral Gladius was simply the first step toward the construction of a super-weapon that would make a nuclear bomb look like a firecracker. Rumor has it that the good doctor was killed trying to stabilize a power source for this weapon. Imagine if you found it. If Alexander could build his System with these boats, what might we do with a weapon like
that
?”

Liz turned to look at him through narrowed eyes, “Sounds like little more than a legend to me, Major. You would do better to focus on the task at hand and forget such fantasies.”

“Ah,” he ran his eyes over her. “Must I forget them all?”

She opened her mouth to tell him just what he could do with those fantasies, but stopped at the approach of
Infallible
’s captain. “Chief of Command,” he spoke briskly. “We’ve come within range of the System’s patrol fleet.”

Liz pushed past Justus and led the way to the bridge, “Sound battle stations. Torpedoes only for the patrol, Captain. Save our other ammunition for the bombardment of the shore. Let’s see if we can’t get Napoleon Alexander’s attention.”

-X-

“Grand Admiral…I bring word from the Division One patrol fleet.”

“Proceed.”

“A fleet of warships has passed into System waters and is headed straight for the bay. The lead ship has been tagged as the
Infallible
, flying the flag of the Ruling Council’s Imperial Conglomerate. They are requesting weapons free.”

Derek Blaine rose from his seat on the roof of the command center and turned to face the soldier. His royal cape fluttered softly behind him and the grand admiral’s rank pin flashed on his collar, “How many?”

“The whole of their Atlantic force.”

Blaine went silent for a moment, deep in contemplation.

“Shall I tell them to engage, sir?”

“No,” Blaine said quickly. “An armada of that size would cut through them just as they did through
Detriment
and her escort. Tell the patrols to fall back with the remainder of the fleet. Draw the enemy ships into the bay and cut off their escape, then tear them to shreds.”

“And what of the MWR, sir? Should he be informed?”

“You may tell him that his great war has come at last,” Grand Admiral Blaine smiled. “And everything is going according to plan.”

“Yes, Grand Admiral.”

“Alert all units to prepare for battle.”

-X-

Grace stood before the memorial wall deep within the gutted Silent Thunder dome, staring at the names carved crudely into the rock. Many she didn’t know, for they were names Crenshaw had added: people he knew before the fall of the Old World, during Silent Thunder’s trek across the globe and the expulsion of the Persian feudal lords from the continental United States, and finally those who had perished in the First War against the World System. More names would follow, those who had died in the brief Second War. Brief, because in the last three days of meetings with her officers and the remaining commanders, the end of their resistance had been clear.

Silent Thunder was broken.

The commanders and their units had already fled back into the Wilderness, scattering across the wastes so that she could never find them again.
Alexandria was a mistake
, they said.
Attempting to fight in the capital city was a fool’s errand from the start…a suicide mission
. So now they would fight nowhere. Fifteen years her father had worked to bring them all back together, and it had fallen apart in days.

Grace had held Silent Thunder together as long as she could, but it had not been enough. Only the 2
nd
Battalion remained to her now, depleted and disheartened. The Battle in the Central Square had cost them dearly…but despite the fact that it had cost many lives, she could only think of one.

She pulled back her sleeve to reveal the slave’s tattoo and her stomach turned with sorrow. Once the sight of it had brought her great excitement and hope. Now it was but a reminder of what she had lost.

Someone came up behind her quietly, but she did not take her eyes off the wall, “You left his name on the wall, Crenshaw. Why?”

“Because Elijah Charity never really came back to us,” Crenshaw replied. “The man we knew was someone else.” He came up beside her with the inscriber. “Perhaps you should do the honors again, this time.”

Grace took the inscriber from his hands, wondering if she could do Eli’s designation the same justice that she had done for her father’s name. At that point she had still been struggling with his death, still had that feeling that he might walk through the door alive at any moment. Not so with Eli. She had seen him fall…she had watched him die. The memory of that terrible sight stole her steadiness, and as she raised the inscriber to the stone below the name of her childhood friend her hand shook with grief.

But she drew enough courage to write it, holding back her grief as long as possible. She managed the numbers, but when she got to the rest she paused and braced herself against the wall, struggling not to break down. She looked up at what she had written:

301-14-A, beloved.

And suddenly she lost it. Rather than succumb to sorrow, her emotions turned to rage. She dropped the inscriber and stood back from the wall, staring at all the names etched into the stone. All rational thought leaving her, she drew
Novus Vita
and fell upon the wall as though it was Napoleon Alexander himself, her fiery white blade digging deep into the stone and destroying the memorial with only a few strokes.

Crenshaw cried out behind her in alarm, but she did not stop. She felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she struck again and again, wanting to destroy every trace of it and just forget. But when Crenshaw finally took hold of her, the rage left as quickly as it came, and she dropped
Novus Vita
and sank to her knees.

Sobs shook her, and though Crenshaw knelt over her and held her firmly by the shoulders she barely even noticed he was there. The world had become empty. She had no one left. No one but Crenshaw, and deep down she knew that one day he would leave her, too.

I am cursed, old man
, she wanted to tell him.
All those I love die, so you had best not add your name to the list
.

“Everything is going to be alright,” he said softly. “You’re not alone, Grace.”

Only then did it compute that she had destroyed his memorial—names that he had built up over two decades of war. The stone in which their names had been immortalized was now a broken ruin, and she felt ashamed. “I’m sorry,” she said through her tears. “I just couldn’t do it…I couldn’t face it.”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’ve wanted to do the same every time I add a new name to the list…I just never had the courage to let go.”

Grace retrieved her weapon and rose, wiping the tears quickly from her face. She fought down the sorrow in her chest, unwilling to let anyone else see her like this. Defeat or no, she was still the commander, and a commander must be strong even in the face of death. Once she felt in control of her voice again, she asked, “What do we do now, Crenshaw? What
can
we do?”

Crenshaw bent down and picked up a fallen piece of the wall, “The only thing we can: rise up, and fight on.” He handed the rock to her, and when she took it she saw Eli’s name upon it, unbroken and preserved.

She shook her head sadly, “For years you searched for him, never believing he was dead. Well I didn’t either. Since I was a little girl I felt that Eli was out there somewhere. It was beyond hope…it was expectation. I
knew
I would see him again. And so when we actually did find him alive, I thought for sure that the feeling had been real…that maybe God had comforted me in those days with the knowledge of Eli’s survival.”