The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2) Read online

  “On my way!” Garros yelled into the aural link. “Hang on—!”

  Ezra looked for Jena’s Jade Arjuna, knowing she was the only one who couldn’t hear the other three. He found her behind Quantum Ares, ready to wield the bow that collapsed from her left forearm.

  Besoe Nandi ran towards Erin, and he was the last one to get there. He could hear Erin grunting and crying out, desperate in a battle she couldn’t win alone. Garros’ massive Creux—the biggest of all, even bigger than Nandi—had stopped at the edge of the pit into which Erin had just been swallowed, just as Jade Arjuna jumped inside.

  “Jena, wait—dammit, Erin, is the terrain stable? Erin, can you hear me?” Garros yelled. “Erin, we can’t jump in if you don’t tell me what—”

  “What are you doing, we need to get in there!” Ezra yelled into the link, and focused Nandi’s eye. The mouth of the pit was barely wide enough for them to jump through, and there was no end to its darkness.

  “Blanchard, wait. Nandi’s too heavy, if the ground down there isn’t solid enough, we could—”

  Ezra didn’t let him finish, and jumped into the darkness following an impulse to help Erin, only to immediately feel a strange form of whiplash. The great hand of Quantum Ares had grabbed onto Nandi’s horns, stopping his fall.

  Ares was ridiculously strong.

  “What the hell are you doing, Blanchard!” Garros yelled. “Erin, please answer me!”

  “I need help!” Erin said. “Jena, where are you! They’re pulling me apart! Garros!”

  He didn’t stay to argue. He had heard those desperate pleas for help before, and he wouldn’t let them be the last he’d hear of his friend. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

  Ezra knew Nandi could never beat Ares in brute strength, so he positioned his legs against the wall, and pushed. Ezra heard Garros grunt as they fell into darkness together, and just a few seconds later, they hit the uneven ground below.

  He looked up and saw the surface was about two and a half body lengths above them.

  “Blanchard, you idiot!” Garros yelled. “You could get us all killed!”

  Ezra didn’t care. He started navigating the tunnel, using what little light Nandi’s large central eye, with its aqua hue, could provide. It appeared to be a mostly linear path, carved by the Tunnelers to cross the mountain range from below.

  “Erin? Erin, where are you?” he yelled, forgetting he wouldn’t be able to hear her, even if she responded.

  He could hear Garros grunt and curse as Nandi carefully followed the tunnel until a new source of light revealed itself after a sharp turn. It was Jade Arjuna. She was using her technomantic power, a bow and an arrow forged in pure light, to pierce the flesh of the Tunnelers before her.

  Guided by what little light they had at their disposal, it took him and Garros less than thirty seconds to completely destroy the two remaining Flecks. Anger fueled their violence again, and greatly amplified it. In the end, only lumps of thick skin and gore remained in the floor and walls of the cave. Looking at Quantum Ares, he saw that even it had been splashed by the monsters’ entrails. It made him sick.

  “Where’s Erin?” Garros asked, and Ezra could hear his horror, plain in his voice. They both hated the fact that when piloting, Jena was essentially deaf and mute.

  Buried beneath a dead Tunneler, Ezra spotted Phoenix Atlas’ arm. He lifted the dead thing, and let it roll to the side. Erin’s Creux was not moving, and she was not responding to Garros’ calls.

  Quantum Ares’ heavy footsteps made every inch of the tunnel shake, and suddenly Ezra understood the dangers of traversing these tunnels in such heavy vehicles. He grabbed Phoenix Atlas by the shoulders, grunting, maybe crying into the link. “Baby, please be all right.”

  Why wasn’t she responding? Was she—

  Garros’ Creux placed the slender Phoenix Atlas face down, and then put its armored face near her lower back. He was sensing something, probably her T-Core. After a moment, Ezra heard Garros sigh in relief.

  “What’s happening?” Ezra asked.

  “She’s still there,” Garros said. “The Core seems stable; there might have been a minor disconnection, but she’s still there. Maybe she got hit during the fight. We need to get her out of here.”

  Ezra tried to nod; he kept forgetting about the limitations in the Creux’s mobility. His in particular was too bulky to be very agile, and the enormous amounts of armor in its neck and shoulders barely let him move its head.

  Even though they had stopped running, and that the threat seemed to be extinguished, he could hear Garros’ deep breaths, like he was trying to control powerful emotions building deep within him.

  He was relieved no more words had been said about Ezra’s overt defiance; a part of him had been terrified to face Garros’ anger. Maybe now that the danger was behind them, the older pilot had understood that the risk Ezra had taken was worth it. Maybe it had even saved Erin’s life.

  They used Nandi’s eye as their source of illumination, and he led them through the shockingly long tunnel. Suddenly this hollow space, what could have easily been their tomb, became their way across, and a miracle that saved days, maybe weeks, of travel.

  “That’s strange,” Garros said, almost to himself. “I hear water.”

  Phoenix Atlas and Quantum Ares were the only two Creuxen that had been properly prepared for their unexpected trip out of Zenith. As such, they were the only ones that had their field hearing activated—they could actually hear through what passed as their Creux’s ears.

  “Where?” Ezra asked.

  “I don’t know. Nearby. Like there’s a river somewhere around here. Maybe these channels aren’t entirely Fleck work. Maybe parts of them are natural. There had to be a way for water to reach the oasis, and there are no more rivers in the surface.”

  Ezra had noticed small divergences in the passage, some of which seemed deliberate, as if the carver had taken a wrong turn, and returned to correct its path. He wondered if there was something they had found, and wanted to avoid. It scared him to imagine what it could be.

  It scared him almost as much as the idea of becoming lost in this labyrinth.

  Suddenly they could hear Erin again. Through the link, which was stronger now that they were so close to each other, they heard her cough and groan. Garros stopped, and told Ezra to do the same.

  “Erin, can you hear me? Babe?”

  Lights on the side of Phoenix Atlas’ head shed some extra light into the tunnel. “I’m okay,” Erin said, her voice weak, or maybe just exhausted.

  “Good, good,” he said. “Hold on, I’ll get you out of here. Blanchard, let’s go. Lead the way out, and hurry.”

  The tunnel took a sharp turn, again as though it was trying to avoid something, and they finally saw it go upwards, towards the light.

  ф

  Though Vivian had prepared herself for this moment, her stomach still reminded her that the slightest mistake could be disastrous.

  She hated politics; it was something she barely understood, and one of the few things she never truly wanted to understand. They were not dictated by any kind of recognizable logical pattern; they were merely an exercise of will.

  And sometimes, the will of men and women driven by greed, ambition, and resentment caused by old feuds.

  Things had changed after the event that had collectively become known as The Shattering, when a strong bloodlust had taken over Ezra Blanchard during a routine operation outside the dome, leading to the sudden exposure of the Creux, and Zenith, to the citizens of Roue.

  For the people of Zenith, who had always believed themselves safe thanks to the dome and the Roue Army, the sight had been too much to handle. To their eyes, the creatures outside the dome were suddenly more dangerous, and the dome itself less reliable.

  And of course, there was the sight of a giant horned devil—the cause of the rupture in the dome’s structure. Did that thing, and those like it, represent their salvation or an additional threat?

&nb
sp; The citizens of Roue were undecided, and it was in their hands where the fate of Zenith lay. There were only a few days left before Proposition Tomorrow, when all the citizens of the city would take a vote, and decide if Zenith would remain operational, or be shut down.

  It was her job to convince them that Zenith was a force of good, and their only chance of survival.

  But Governor Ronald Heath, one of the most influential men in Roue, and also its leader, disagreed.

  The man who had so tenaciously led a campaign against Zenith, and all involved in it, was waiting for Vivian to join her for what he called a friendly interview, though she knew that their encounter would more accurately be called a debate. Like every remaining Creux pilot in Zenith, she would have to publicly speak on the facility’s behalf, and defend it from the vicious words of the man who sought to end it.

  The end of Zenith meant the end of the Creux Defense Program. It meant the termination of the only thing that was truly protecting Roue from the Laani threat.

  It meant the end of humanity. Most people understood that, and it was not, for them, a bad thing. They had been exiled from their own planet, forced to live in an enclosure, never to see the sun or the stars that had once watched over their ancestors. This was no life, and there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

  Vivian sighed.

  She was terrified because she knew that, despite the intelligent strategy crafted by Zenith, theirs was a lost battle. Ezra Blanchard had doomed Roue to destruction, and humanity to extinction.

  “You’re more prepared than anyone else who’s faced him,” Tara Blanchard said. Her words of encouragement were honest and reassuring, but merely a whisper in a storm.

  “Remember everything we told you, and remember how to lie,” General Adams said. The leader of the Roue Military had been an invaluable asset for Zenith’s side. The tall, striking woman had always known of the existence of Zenith, and understood its importance for Roue’s survival. Ever since Akiva, Ezra, Garros, Jena, and Erin left Zenith, these two women had been Vivian’s tutors. They were sure she could play a key part in saving the facility.

  “What if he asks something else? Something I can’t answer.”

  “There’s nothing you can’t answer, Vivian,” said the director. “We know his strategy. We know what he knows—and what he doesn’t.”

  Vivian nodded. During the events of Ezra’s escape, three members of Zenith had been killed by Kat Covington, Besoe Nandi’s treacherous crewmember. She was glad Governor Heath had never found out about it; had he known about Kat’s betrayal, their campaign would come to a premature end in his favor.

  “I’m ready,” Vivian said, and the director fixed the collar of her uniform, knowing that Heath would somehow take advantage of the minutest imperfection in her demeanor.

  Vivian opened the door to the Conference Hall, and was immediately greeted by dozens of electric eyes and camera flashes. Behind them stood people who, under any other circumstance, would have never set foot on Zenith. This was an unexplored world for the people of Roue, and these men and women were the citizens’ eyes and ears.

  She sat down and placed her hands gently on her crossed legs. It was an elegant position Director Blanchard had taught her, meant to demonstrate openness and confidence. She did her best to also convey the same sentiments with her face.

  She smiled; it felt strange.

  “Can you state your name, please?” the fat man said, and Vivian could almost feel microphones coming closer.

  “Private First Class Vivian Poole,” she said, trying to sound confident.

  “You were one of the four final recruits of the Creux Defense Program,” he stated, mispronouncing the word Creux. “Is this correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And the only one that remains, in here, as well. When was the last time you saw the other three?”

  He had immediately asked the question she was dreading to answer; the lie Director Blanchard had plotted was flimsy and could easily be picked apart, so she had to answer carefully. “Akiva Davenport and Jena Crescent left the same day of your first visit to the facility, sir, on a reconnaissance operation. Ezra Blanchard was discharged from Zenith soon after you destroyed his Creux.”

  He nodded in a self-satisfied way that angered her, like he was proud of having destroyed Besoe Nandi. “Where is he now?”

  Director Blanchard was looking at her, visibly nervous, and the feeling became contagious. Had she said the wrong thing, or did the woman fear she soon would? “His home, I suppose. I haven’t been in contact with him.”

  “Wasn’t he your friend?” he said, and she only shrugged.

  What followed was not an interview, but an interrogation. She was asked to describe technical specifications about her Creux in an attempt to find holes in her education, trying to prove that she had not been trained properly. Then, Governor Heath began to ask increasingly personal questions, some of which involved topics she had to deflect or completely ignore, such as the whereabouts of her parents, whom she didn’t even remember.

  General Adams had warned her about this tactic, which was key to Heath’s strategy; this man had researched Vivian’s past and would try to taunt and humiliate her publicly, hoping for a negative reaction that would prove that she was not fit to wield something as powerful as a Creux.

  It was lucky that Vivian had lived many years under strict emotional discipline, and the pain was only felt inwardly. An hour had passed, and she knew the time was nearly up.

  Vivian could tell she had done well, maybe even better than expected, and a cursory glance at Director Blanchard confirmed so.

  “One last thing,” he said. “Going back to what you said about the Minotaur. Where is the Creux now?”

  Vivian froze, completely unsure of what to say. In the few seconds that it took her to reply, she had to avoid looking at Director Blanchard, as Heath would immediately infer that there was no answer for his question. Instead, her eyes drifted towards the men and women behind cameras, jotting down their thoughts on notebooks. They had begun to murmur amongst each other, and she could only imagine what was being said.

  In a moment of clarity, Vivian gave the safest answer she could think of, just as everyone in the room could sense her uncertainty: “That is information that wasn’t shared with me.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” he said. “As I understand it’s not the first time a Creux was destroyed—even in the last few months. I’m sure there are disposal protocols, means of repurposing, maybe. I was just curious.”

  Vivian nodded, relieved. “Yes, sir.”

  He looked at her for another moment, and she wondered if her anxiety was as apparent as she feared. She looked at Director Blanchard, but the woman was gone; only General Adams stood in the shadows beyond the door, looking at her.

  “Well, then. Thank you, Private First Class Poole,” said the man, getting up and shaking her hand. He suddenly tightened his grip. “Please give my regards to Sergeant Barnes and Lance Corporal Covington.”

  He smiled, feeling sweat in Vivian’s hand.

  She left the room, ignoring additional questions from the members of the press—questions she was under no obligation to answer.

  Vivian left the people behind, and felt just a little safer when she joined General Adams in the dark of the hall.

  “That was a good answer to his last question, Vivian,” said the General, pulling her by the arm, farther from the microphones and cameras. “Diplomatic, safe, smart, confidently said. But I think it won’t matter at all.”

  “Ma’am?”

  She pointed at the room where the interview had taken place, and saw Heath approach the men and women of Roue, ready to convey his impressions to them. “Heath’s only been playing with us. He knows everything, and I’m afraid someone in Zenith might be involved with him.”

  ф

  The light into which they climbed led to another land.

  Besoe Nandi was the first to step out of th
e darkness, and witnessed a surreal kind of beauty. Almost immediately to their right he saw another oasis, by far the biggest one they had come upon yet. The enormous patch of green stretched far beyond what the Minotaur’s eye could see, hidden behind tall trees. The grass even climbed up the mountain range, and was lost under a layer of sparkling snow.

  The taint of the Laani respected this capsule even as far as the sky—there was a hole in the thick mantle of grey clouds, and the colors beyond were more beautiful than anything the domes of Roue could paint.

  He wanted to stand and admire the sight for hours, but the heavy stomps of Quantum Ares rushing to the oasis urged him to follow, and Jena did the same.

  Ezra watched as Quantum Ares placed Erin’s Creux flat on its back. “Erin, can you hear me?” he said.

  “I’m here, Garros. I just feel dizzy,” she said. “I’m coming out.”

  “Yes, go. We’re safe,” said Garros, and as they always did, sat down on the ground, barely finding enough space to accomodate his Creux, and desynchronized.

  Ezra did the same, placing Nandi a little farther away, closer to the mountain. Kat had programmed the Minotaur’s operating system to open the Creux’s Apse whenever Ezra desynchronized; it had been deemed the least risky method of ensuring the safety of the pilot.

  You’re leaving again, whispered Nandi.

  Not for long.

  He felt breath in his lungs, and saw the all too familiar dot of white light between his feet bringing him back to reality. In darkness, Ezra reached up and found the Egg’s hatch, which he slid open. The movement-tracking technology inside the Minotaur’s Apse kept the Egg stable, even if the Creux itself moved about, so it was easy to step out of the monster’s flesh and into the green, open world.

  Ezra found Garros and Jena kneeling next to Erin. She was awake, but far from peaceful. She was shaking.