Justus gestured behind him at the dim, desolate horizon. ‘Yeah, but I didn’t.’
‘What’s up with you?’ She moved closer, and stroked his rough face. Her hand was soft. ‘Kaara . . . her loss . . . it’s hard for us all. But I don’t want to see you go to pieces, alright? You’re still our captain. They all think you’re an opportunist. A coward.’
‘I am.’
‘Oh, I know. But there’s also courage. A lot more courage than anyone else sees.’
He took her hand in his. ‘You see.’
Dimal nodded. ‘I see.’
Almost as though time itself had chosen that moment, Justus felt a familiar rhythm swell along his arm, and he took a step back, gazing at the small screen on his glove-comm. His eyes didn’t leave the communication as he double-checked the received message. The coordinates of Lesper’s ship appeared before him.
‘Justus?’ Dimal said. ‘What is it?’
It’s final, that’s what.
‘Justus?’ Her expression, though drenched in dark and shadow, was utterly bewildered.
‘I’m not staying with you,’ he said. ‘There’s something I have . . .’
‘What?’
He took a deep breath. ‘I . . . I’ve been given the chance for a fresh start. Away from this life, from these memories . . . this hell.’ He gazed into her eyes. ‘You’re captain now.’
He went to move, but Dimal held out her arm. He’d expected a thump, a slap—anything but sympathy. ‘I know how hard Kaara’s death was for you,’ she said. ‘But it wasn’t your fault.’
‘Yes it was!’ he said, pushing past her but spinning back. ‘And so were the ones before, and all those that’ll come, if I stay. It’s time I stopped acting the fool, time I stopped putting all your lives at risk—’
‘You’re doing that by walking away!’
‘You’re free of me.’
‘I don’t want to be free of you.’
‘It’s always someone else that finishes up taking the fall,’ he said. ‘It’s never me.’
‘You’re just going to leave us here?’ Her face flushed scarlet, her lip quivering. ‘You coward! You can’t just run away!’
‘I can go wherever I want,’ he said calmly. He’d made up his mind; there was no way he could stay. ‘Nothing you can say will change this, Adra.’
Tears welled up behind her eyes. She fought them. Taking one last look at him, she turned and stormed back inside the Crimson Flux, smashing her fist into the glass divider within.
Silence. Thunder soon broke among emerging black clouds. He looked at his glove and said, ‘Our destination?’ At once his words appeared on the glove-screen before him. The message was sent. He took out the blaster he’d taken from her, threw it inside, and turned to walk away.
‘She’s right, you know.’
He turned and glared at Noah, his medic, stood still and hooded in the shadow of the ship.
‘How much did you hear, Noah?’
‘She’s right, Captain. In my books saving a life is just about the greatest act one may ever do. There’s a girl in there who is alive because of you.’
‘Yeah, and one less too.’
‘We can’t change the past,’ Noah said. ‘But your sadness will pass in time.’
‘What would you know about my sadness?’
‘What happened to Kaara was not your fault. What happened to the Veryans was not your fault.’
‘Yes . . . it was. But it’s not just that. I wish . . . I wish to the Gods I could have done more.’ His vision blurred. ‘You didn’t see their faces. Thousands died on Manera. So many that I could have saved! But I didn’t. I ran past women and children, screaming and crying for somebody to help them, for anyone to do something. But I just ran, like I always do. It’s all I’m good at. They died because of me. The Veryans died because of me. Kaara died because of me.’
Noah took off his hood and stepped forward, his belly bursting through the middle of the cloak. ‘There is always something more we can do. But what has passed nobody can change. All anyone can do is promise to do better, next time.’
Justus looked away. ‘There won’t be a next time for me.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘I’m done. I’ve tried to save lives, but I only finish up losing them.’
‘What kind of superhuman do you imagine yourself to be, Captain?’
Justus held his gaze for what seemed like forever, fighting to summon the strength to say the words. He bunched his hands into fists. ‘It’s time I found another path. Look after Adra. Say goodbye to Raj and Shree for me.’
‘But Antal . . .’
‘Goodbye, Noah.’
And Justus walked away, with thunder rumbling and lightning striking the desert soil in blinding, solemn flashes. No rain fell, but the wind caught his black cloak in powerful gusts. Darkness endured and the man, no longer captain of the Crimson Flux, looked at his shuddering wrist at the reply from Commander Lesper:
—DESTINATION: THE WEAPON TO DESTROY WORLDS
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A SONOROUS DRONE shook the still air, disturbing the silence normally found high above the transcending towers of Titan. Anna Berenguer watched three hovercraft move across the domed sky, far off in the outlying sectors of the city. She did not mind a change from the quiet she routinely found up on her seventieth-storey terrace. She had become used to the quiet and deep thought, especially in recent weeks. A hush seemed suddenly to have consumed Titan; the successful attack on the docking city two weeks ago had unsettled everybody.
Alongside her building soared the great Central Tower, tallest edifice in all twelve domes, while all about her stood the affluent borough—home to many great structures which housed the privileged lords and ladies of the city. Pillar-like towers stood before and around her like immense metallic trees in undying woodland.
Sitting on the edge of the upper tier she allowed one of her legs to hang over the brink, while upon the other she rested her head and embraced with her arms. She heaved a sigh of calm, closed her swollen eyes. She had been so tired lately. No longer able to see her mother in her dreams, her nights had become darker, the nightmares more vivid, foul, and worryingly frequent. It seemed there was no escape.
A powerful wind tore straight for her, causing her to shut her eyes and back away, her long hair blowing out behind. The several military vehicles approached quickly and hovered nearby. Thunderous, large, and formidable, they circled the towers in immense formations typical of confident pilots of the Titanese Guard. One day that would be her, Anna knew—were she ever to graduate the Institute.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a tall figure move behind and sit cross-legged beside her. She did not need to look to know who it was.
‘Don’t move,’ said Jon Del’oueste indignantly. ‘I have three questions. Question one: does the young lady mind explaining why she’s sitting on her own up here while preparations for Titan’s eight-hundredth year celebrations are going on without her?’
Anna continued to look out at the view. ‘Does the young man mind telling the young lady why he wasted a trip up here to ask a question to which he already knows the answer?’
‘The young lady makes a good point,’ Jon said. ‘Question two: why must she be such a know-it-all?’
‘Because the young man acts like such a dim-wit, the young lady must point out the obvious so as not to confuse him.’
‘Very funny,’ he said, and edged along closer.
Anna turned to him. He held her gaze. She stared back silently, but he broke into a smile first and playfully thumped her on the shoulder. She hit him back a little harder and they both turned to look out at the view. The hovercraft disappeared behind more distant towers and the silence returned.
‘Question three: have I done something wrong?’
Anna did not reply, lost in her thoughts.
‘It’s still as beautiful now as when you brought me up here when we were children,’ he said.
‘Yes I remember,
’ she sniggered. ‘You were sick.’
‘Don’t remind me.’
‘Yet, I feel as though it’s wasted on me now. It’s beautiful yes, but the magnificence fades a little after you’ve gazed upon it every single day for eighteen years.’
‘Then why is it you spend more time up here than anywhere else?’
‘I feel calm here,’ she said, watching Jon sigh; the way he always did when she spoke in that way. ‘Titan, the Twelve Cities, this place, it’s—’
‘Like a cage,’ he finished. He looked away as Anna stared him down. ‘How’s your uncle coping?’
Anna shook her head. ‘He’s not been the same since the attack at the dock. He’s under a lot of pressure at the moment. He feels responsible for what happened. After all, the explosives were within his craft.’
‘It doesn’t sound good, does it?’
She looked at him and bit her lip. ‘Something doesn’t feel right, Jon. He was always good at hiding things, just not from me. I can always tell when he’s being less than honest. He and Callista won’t tell me what’s going on. They don’t trust me.’
‘I’m sure they do.’ He smiled softly. ‘What about your nightmares? Are they still as bad as they were?’
‘I haven’t had one for days,’ she lied.
‘Well that can only be good, can’t it?’
‘Yes, I suppose.’
‘Have you thought any more about telling Callista of them?’
‘Do you really think it’s the Crilshans who are responsible for the explosion?’ she asked.
Jon frowned at her obvious attempt to change the subject. ‘Who else?’
‘I don’t know. The General told me that Titan has a lot of enemies, resentful of our power . . . or else supporters of the Dishan. They have a lot of support in Proxima right now.’
‘Look who’s been listening in Interstellar Relations for once,’ Jon teased.
The truth was she had not attended the Institute at all the past week. The nightmares of the black orb had gotten worse since witnessing Callista’s dream diary. She had been so tired it had been impossible to stay awake. It was almost like the dream was sucking the life right out of her.
‘I don’t think anyone else could have done this,’ Jon said. ‘It has to be Crilshar.’
‘What do you expect will happen now?’
‘I imagine it’s only a matter of time until we have Crilshans flooding into the First System. They’re already in the other three. Word down at the dock is they’re destroying our allied trade ships, and I’ll be surprised if the Council doesn’t respond to the invasion of Rotavar. I’ve been working down at the dock every day since the attack. It’s been two weeks and it still isn’t operational.’
Anna said nothing, but moved closer to Jon and rested her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her and held her tightly. She looked down to see his hand shaking. ‘Do you think they’re using the attack on the dock as an excuse not to help Rotavar?’ she asked.
‘It’s what Crilshar would want . . . if I were them,’ he said. ‘Maybe they’ve infiltrated the Council and are planning on usurping Lady Pinzón!’
They burst into laughter.
‘I’d like to see them try and take her on,’ Anna said. ‘The General says he’d rather confront an army of almuits than that old witch!’
They doubled up in hysterics and cuddled a while longer. Anna gazed at his soft, dark hair and subtle brown eyes. ‘You shouldn’t be here with me,’ she told him.
‘Huh?’
‘You’re amazing, and you understand all this way more than anyone else I know. You should have been taken into the Guard long ago.’
‘You know that families like mine are what hold Titan together,’ he said. ‘We do all the tasks no one else will do. The Guard isn’t for me.’
‘It could be.’
‘I don’t enjoy working with my father repairing the harbour city, but I just do it. I still ask myself why I didn’t even try to join up. But being here . . . with you . . . I’m so glad I didn’t.’ Jon squeezed her hand and she grasped his firmly in return.
‘Jon?’
‘What?’
She paused. ‘You know I . . . nothing.’
He smiled. ‘I know.’ With that he turned her around, took careful hold of her face with both shaking hands, and looked into her eyes. ‘Run away with me.’
Anna froze. ‘What?’
He breathed deeply and repeated, ‘Run away with me, Anna. I’ve thought about leaving Titan for good—thought about it for so long—and now I’m going to do it—and I want you to come with me. I can protect you. We can leave Titan behind and have a life together. Somewhere safe. Somewhere else. Please say yes.’
She thumped him on the shoulder again. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘I’m not.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘I wish I was.’
Anna stood. ‘Leave Titan? I . . . I couldn’t . . . I mean, my family, my sister. We have lives here. We can’t just r . . . run away.’
‘Think about yourself, Anna—think about us,’ he said, standing and following her back towards her room. ‘This place is no longer safe. Look at the armies preparing to march to war right in front of you. A war they won’t win. We don’t have a future here.’
Anna couldn’t think straight. Here was the man she loved giving her the greatest choice, the most terrible choice.
‘I do have a future on Titan,’ she said. ‘I turn eighteen the day after tomorrow. Then I can join the Forces, the Titanese Guard, and then help to fight.’
‘Do you really think your uncle will let you join the Guard with everything that’s happening right now?’ he cried, following her inside.
‘He will! He said he’d allow me to once I turned eighteen. After all this time it’s now only two days away! Why else would he train me if not to prepare me for the trials of the Four Systems?’ Jon made no reply. ‘Look, I can’t leave. I can count on the General. He won’t let me down. I trust him more than anyone.’
After a brief silence Jon mumbled, ‘I see. Well I hope you’re right. But I seriously have to consider leaving. There’s nothing much for me here . . . other than you. I’ve found a way to disappear. Working amongst all the confusion at the docks it’s been easy to get hold of flight schedules and spacecraft plans. We’ll visit places you’ve always wanted!’
Anna could not reply.
‘The offer’s still there, but not for long. We’d have to go soon . . .’
A tear rolled down her cheek.
‘. . . and leave . . . for Earth.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WITH ALL THE cares Anna had been carrying of late, she had easily overlooked the many celebrations due to take place that year, most of which were beginning that very week. The Standard Year 4262 marked the eight-hundredth year since Titan became an established World, surrendering the given title of colony. It was a big deal by any account, and at the end of the week huge gatherings had been planned all across the Twelve Cities—the largest of which was to take place at Central Tower.
It was useful timing; everybody needed something to cheer them up. It just so happened that that week was also Anna’s birthday. Two days and everything would change for the better.
Having left Jon alone Anna raced across the central city in the direction of the Command Dome. Experiencing a little trouble getting past security, she managed to get them to back down, and off she went in search of her uncle. Jon was wrong. The General would not stop her from joining the Guard. She would prove it right now. She found him stood outside the principal chamber of the Titanese Council, clad in his best silver and black velvet surcoat, chatting happily with another member of the assembly. But as she strode up the General’s expression rolled from cheerful to one of shock.
‘Anna, how did you—’
‘Excellent security you have here,’ she said. ‘You need to give that entrance guard a raise. And perhaps a little more training.’
> But the General wasn’t smiling. ‘You can’t just wander in here, Anna.’
‘I know, but I need to speak to you.’
‘What’s wrong? Is it Callista?’
‘No.’
‘Your sister?’
‘No, they’re fine. I just need to talk.’
‘I’m afraid whatever you want to say, it’ll have to wait, Anna dear,’ he said. ‘I’m about to go into a meeting.’
Fidgeting, she said, ‘Is it important?’
‘Somewhat. But nothing for you to worry about. Go on, we’ll speak later.
‘But I—’
‘Later, Anna.’
She turned, blushing. The other council members had stopped to watch, so she scurried back around the corner and out of sight. It seemed strange; it looked to her as though the entire council was there. That only happened in times of crisis.
As usual her curiosity took hold and, peering back around the wide pillar behind which she had taken cover, she watched her uncle turn and continue his conversation with the elderly Anthea Godíno—a good friend of the Berenguers and a devoted champion of their cause. Thickset and almost dwarf-like, Anthea still looked beautiful in her old age, and presented her silver hair in twisted locks wrapped elegantly around her shoulders.
Anna thought of Jon’s words: ‘Do you really think your uncle will let you join the Guard with everything that’s happening right now?’
Glancing around her carefully, she crept from behind the pillar and moved to the back of another white column. There stood several in tempered succession, all along the opening to the large council chamber where the nearby assembly was gathered. Anna chose her timing well and tiptoed behind the columns, sliding in through the semi-open doors.
Inside she found a dark and spacious hall. It was windowless, devoid of all natural light, but the periphery of the chamber was lined with enormous stone statues. Narrow shafts of light burned from each of their bases. Some statues she recognised as past lords and ladies and other famous symbols of Titan. Along the chamber’s centre stretched two long tables lined with fine chairs; they both faced each other with an opening of four small strides in between. At the end of the two counters, positioned in the centre, was a large lilac coloured chair on a platform which rose slightly higher.
Mighty doors groaned open and the shrill echo set Anna bounding towards the edge of the room. She buried herself in the shrubbery scattered between each the sculptures, her heart thumping in her throat. Peering through a leafy gap she watched the lords, ladies, administrators, and captains promptly make their way into the grand room, forming rows of regal poses and humourless expressions. Separated into tables of military and non-military men and women, they each took their positions and sat, still chatting among themselves. Anna counted roughly fifty in total, all wearing luxurious robes like her uncle Ruben.