The Phoenix Crisis (48 page)

He looked around, expecting to see Calvin.
But Calvin was nowhere to be found. It made Shen a little sad. But
he told himself that Calvin was probably needed somewhere else.
That his friend, the man he most respected, would see him soon.
Everything could be like it used to be…

Sarah squeezed his hand a bit harder and
spoke something, Shen still couldn’t hear her nor could he read her
lips. Rain returned to his side and adjusted some of the equipment.
As she worked, adjusting a computer that was tied to an IV that
stuck into his arm, Shen listened to the silence and wondered if he
would ever hear again.

As if in answer to his question, his ears
filled with a faint ringing.

Chapter 32

Kalila heard from Calvin that he had leads
on who many of the Phoenix Ring leaders were—a group of civilian
and military leaders known as the Council. Calvin also told her
that he knew where they were likely hiding, and he was going after
them. All Kalila could think was how sweet it would be when the
perpetrators were finally brought to justice.

The political game in the Assembly had
become increasingly delicate. And as news and rumors came in from
the far reaches of the Empire, all of it ranging from bad to worse,
Kalila found that her bloc of supporters was swiftly abandoning
her. She considered bringing her father in, or one of her older
siblings—despite the breach in protocol that would represent—but
she knew it would serve no purpose. There was nothing any of them
could do that she could not, and such a gesture would simply weaken
her position in the minds of her allies. Showing the Akira House,
the proudest and noblest of the Great Houses, to be
desperate.      

Now, however, there was effectively nothing
more she could do. She would try to stall the vote, any way she
could, but for every measure she tried to raise for debate and
every wrench she threw in to slow the process, Caerwyn Martel was
there to counter her. To have her motions dismissed. To have her
filibuster tactics squelched by a majority Vote to Progress—which
had been written into the Assembly rules as a way to prevent a
minority power from holding the majority of the Representatives
hostage and blocking political progress by creating a gridlock. The
King himself had endorsed those measures years before when they’d
been introduced. Now, though, they came back to haunt him. And they
made it very difficult for Kalila to defend him, and herself, and
her family. The Empire needed the Akira family at its helm, the
same way a colony of bees needed its queen. Without them, without
her father, the Empire would splinter apart. She knew it. And she
hated that her enemies, whoever they were, seemed so very close to
success. And there was so precious little she could do now to stop
them.

Calvin will stop them, she told herself. He
will arrest them. And then bring them immediately before the
Assembly where the conspiracy would be exposed. Caerwyn would be
able to do nothing about it—especially when his role in the dark
sedition was revealed. Then justice would be served, the King’s
crown made secure, and the Empire would be swept clean inside and
out. Like a controlled fire purging away the sick, rotten, dead
branches but sparing the healthy part of the tree. Once it was done
there would be no one left who was strong enough to oppose and
endanger them. Not the Rotham Republic. Not the Polarian
Confederacy. No one. And then humanity would prosper once more.

It all depended on the next few hours

Kalila arranged for her forces to be
standing by, ready to storm the Admiralty and ready to flood the
Assembly Floor with additional security and protection. Once Calvin
had custody of the traitors and brought them here, they needed to
be kept safe and alive long enough to make their confessions. Or be
found guilty. If there was going to be a violent response to
Calvin’s and Kalila’s actions, Kalila would be ready for it.
Soldiers loyal to her House and soldiers loyal to the king were
ordered to stand by.

The next moments were critical. And Kalila
would do all she could to ensure the safety of her father’s
throne.

***

The Rotham Republic now had a legitimate
claim to Renora, which gave them a foothold inside the Empire. Zane
wasn’t happy about that—he’d never been happy with that part of the
plan—but he’d always understood the necessity. Now it was more
necessary than ever. Things were bad with the Rahajiim, the worst
they’d ever been. And they’d taken the Organization’s bait and now
blamed the Phoenix Ring for the attack on their soil. The ongoing
slaughter of countless Rotham on Cepheus. Hopefully the acquisition
of Renora would placate the Rahajiim for a little while, but there
was no way to be sure. Eventually there would be war, Zane was
certain of it, but hopefully not until after Ascension was
complete.

He stood in the inner sanctum of the bunker.
It was a plush, well-decorated room with a mahogany conference
table and several expensive chairs around it. The doors were thick
and secure, and were vigilantly guarded by a small army of
mercenaries. Wanting to buy their deepest loyalty, Zane had paid
them, and paid them well. None of these guards would ever have to
work again after this. They just had to ensure the safety of Zane
and the rest of the Council—who sat around the conference table
debating some of the finer points of Post-Ascension. All were
present. Every last one. And, as his eyes drank them in, Zane knew
in his heart that the time was fast approaching. “This is for
real,” he whispered.

“
Mister Martel,” the
mercenary captain walked up to him and saluted. Zane simply
regarded him with his eyes. “The bunker is secure,
sir
.”

Zane looked from him, to the
other guards, to the thick metal doors, and imagined all of the
other many soldiers he’d taken into his employ.
Together—
here
—they
would ride out the storm. His precautions were many and he had
spared no expense with his defense, but was it truly enough to be
deemed
secure
? Was
anything?

“
Stay vigilant,” he said,
and swept for his seat at the head of the conference table. Upon
reaching it, he did not sit down though. Rather he stood, waiting
for the noise of conversation to die, and for all eyes to fall on
him.

Half a minute later the room was silent and
thickly tense. His eyes moved from Councilman to Councilman. It was
with these faces that he’d imagined the perfect Empire. And was
with them that he would see it born. From ashes to ashes. From dust
to dust. Into the fire. And into the sun. Rebirth. Renewal. Glory.
“Ascension is nigh,” he said. “The hour swiftly approaches.”

“
Hear, hear!” shouted Vance
Tyler. Other voices joined his. He waited for the noise to die down
before continuing.

“
The vote is scheduled to
happen. There is no stopping it now,” said Zane. “Truly, there
never was any stopping it. Our destiny has always been written in
the stars. And from the stars, our glory.”

More cheers. Mixed with applause. He saw the
excited looks on the others’ faces. Saw the energy coursing through
them, more eager than they’d ever been. Even paranoid Rita Donovan
looked smug and secure, feeling safe in this hidden fortress.
Surrounded by steel walls and an army of men. None of them knew how
delicate everything was. How much danger remained.

Zane knew that the Rahajiim
were still out there, brooding, biding their time, full of darkness
and hate. He also knew that the Executor hunted for them. That he’d
raided the Phoenix Ring’s dark dungeons and taken prisoners.
Prisoners who would talk. Prisoners whose deaths Zane should have
ordered but he’d failed to act in time.
No
matter
, he thought.
They will come. The dogs of war will come. But they will not
come swiftly enough. Ascension will happen. And when it does—no one
shall oppose me.
No one could ever hope to
oppose the Phoenix Ring once the mightiest Empire in the history of
the universe lay in the palm of his hand. He needed only to remain
safe a little while longer.

“
Now we wait,” he said.
“Wait to embrace our destiny.”

They cheered him, louder than ever. And not
just the Council but the guards too. The sanctum rang with the echo
of cheers. Zane raised both arms triumphantly until they were all
silent. Then he headed for the door, allowing the Council to resume
its inane prattling. He’d called in every favor. Spent all he could
spend on defending this facility. But Zane knew he could never feel
truly safe, not until he’d made one final call. Everything was on
the table now. It was all or nothing.

***

Blackmoth was almost through cleaning the
handgun when the call came. He wasn’t expecting it, but knew better
than to be surprised. The One True God worked in transcendent ways,
ways that defied Blackmoth’s ability to predict. No mere mortal
could predict them, such was their immaculate beauty.

The call came from a false master. The
request was urgent. More urgent than any he’d ever received from a
false master before. And unusual too. Something he wasn’t used to.
The false master offered him riches of all persuasions from all
corners of the galaxy, but they meant nothing to him. Blackmoth had
to pray. And pray he did. Was this the will of the One True God? He
asked mightily. And mightily came the reply.

The One True God agreed.

Blackmoth was bound.

“
I’ll do it,” he said, now
re-assembling the handgun.
I am but a mere
vessel, a tool in the fingers of the One True
God
.

Chapter 33

Calvin had been tempted to use his authority
as Executor of the Empire to take command of whole companies of
marines, and deploy several platoons throughout the district.
Giving the Phoenix Ring bunker a systematic, vice-grip like
squeeze. No one would be going in or out. No one would escape. He
would capture them, storming their bunker with overwhelming force.
And had this been a traditional war, Calvin would have certainly
chosen such a tactic.

However, the intelligence officer in Calvin
knew that was a bad idea, not only would it take longer to arrange
logistically, it gave his enemies more opportunity to learn what he
was doing and make preparations. It would also maximize the number
of friendly casualties—which he wanted to keep as close to zero as
possible—and would be seen by the Assembly as a reason to panic.
The Representatives might think Calvin was massing a force to move
against them, or against the innocent civilians of Capital
World—perhaps likening it to what had happened on Renora—which
might lead them to accelerate their vote. Of critical importance
was that Calvin took the Phoenix Ring leaders into custody and
exposed the conspiracy before the King had been driven from the
throne. Nothing else mattered. And now everything seemed to hinge
on him.

“
Execute operation,” he said
into his headset radio once he’d been told his people were in
position. He stared out the window of his car for a while, watching
the buildings seem to fly past as his motorcade raced to the scene.
He wore a tactical vest, a helmet, and protective gear, and was
armed with a carbine and a sidearm. Rafael and Nikolai were there
too, and similarly equipped. Neither probably should have been
there with him, not after the injuries they’d received. But both
had been eager to head to the front lines and be there by his
side.

Nikolai managed his injuries—which included
tissue, bone, and organ damage—via a system of intense pain
medications. That and an iron-like force of will. As for Rafael,
who was missing two fingers and wore an eye-patch over his empty
socket, he held a one-handed sub-machinegun rather than a carbine
and flashed a grin of determination. He seemed strongly motivated
to go after Zane Martel, perhaps wanting revenge.

“
Roger,” crackled the reply
over the radio. “Alpha and Bravo are mobile.”

Calvin wished he could be there with Alpha
and Bravo teams as they closed in on the Phoenix Ring bunker, and
he was coming as fast as he possibly could, but he knew they
couldn’t afford to wait. Every second wasted made things that much
more desperate for the King and the Empire.

“
Good luck,” he transmitted
back. “Keep me informed.”

“
Wilco
.”

 
He’d deployed a force
of elite soldiers that had been specially trained in urban combat
exercises and irregular warfare. Not nearly the size of force in
numbers that he’d wanted to deploy originally, not even by a tenth,
but they boasted far more expertise than traditional marines. And
should still—if all went well—be more than a match for the Phoenix
Ring’s mercenaries and hired security.

“
I can’t wait to give them a
taste of their own medicine,” said Nikolai, looking at Calvin. He
pointed at the bandage on his chest that peeked out from under his
protective body-armor. “They’ll get a lot worse than this when I’m
done with them.”

“
Remember, we need to
capture the leaders alive,” said Calvin. He’d given very explicit
and clear instructions to his men and women on the ground not to
fire on the enemy leaders. If they were slain then they’d be
useless as witnesses before the Assembly. “
You may incapacitate them and use non-lethal
weapons,
” he’d told them.
“
But do not engage with lethal
force
.”