PILLARS OF LIGHT AND FIRE: THE COMPLETE SERIES, page 124
“I’m twelve years old. What do you want from me? Complex equations?”
“I captured our father at twelve years old,” Leto replied with amusement. “Uncle Owen couldn’t do that. Dear mummy Morgan couldn’t do that. Not even John Atherton or the whole of NEMESIS could do that without my help. I did that at twelve years old, but…” He paused, reconsidering her words. “That’s an interesting question. What do I want from you? To leave me alone? To let me go unimpeded?”
“If I stopped you, would it change the path you’re on?” Even as Gal thought of this, she recoiled from that power, the rawness of it. She could stop him, if she wished, and she wished it. She didn’t want her brother to destroy himself. It was a foolish thought, and a fool’s errand.
“If you stopped me I’d be unable to walk the path. Do you think the path is yours as much as it is mine? Where will it—never mind, you almost had me there.”
“You are right in that our paths are bound now. The future of our father lies with how you use Caliburn. Do you strike him down or do you protect him?”
“I said I didn’t want to know these things!” Leto snapped.
“You chose the path, brother,” Gal said with as much calm as she could muster. He’d tried to destroy the augments as a child. Had that changed when Arthur had granted him his own powers—powers he’d developed in these intervening years? Did he really think his star was ascendant compared with their father’s? Gal knew where his path led, even if she could no longer see it. Control. Enslavement. Power.
“What will you do if I strike him down?”
He wants knowledge.
“I’m just a kid. I can’t do anything,” Gal replied.
“That’s not true and you know it.”
Gal again thought of the things she could do. If her mother and grandmother knew what she could do… Anora probably knew and understood. If she did, she was not the kind of person to hold another back. She settled for, “I’ll be angry.”
Disbelief and intrigue. “I can be fine with you being angry, but I don’t believe that you’ll do nothing.”
“That is a wise assessment.”
“You’ll do something, then. Is this phone call your something?”
“I’m afraid there are things I must do that I don’t want to. I don’t want to take matters into my own hands.”
“So you are at the same place where I was at your age,” Leto said.
“No. The same place as you are now.” He thought of her as behind him, walking along his path, making hard choices, but the truth was she was right beside him. She changed the path they trod ever so slightly. She could only change him. Save him, in a way. She didn’t want to resort to drastic and irrevocable measures. Don’t think about it.
“Do I kill you?” Leto asked of his half sister.
“You have nothing to do with my death.”
“I would hate to think that I would do something foolish like that to my sister.” Disappointment and resignation.
“That’s kind of you, brother.”
“Don’t expect I’ll get used to it.”
“You shall, in time. If you survive.”
“That’s the third thing you’ve hinted at. Time for you to take action?”
“I already have.” She rushed on before he could interrupt her. “I forgot to mention—”
“The Accords are done and the world will soon decide the fate of the Kin. What is it?” he urged her after a heartbeat.
“Only to say, happy eighteenth birthday.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He hung up.
Gal explored the thoughts behind his messages, wishing she could reach out to her father. She missed him. He’d been an ever-present comfort in her mind, a bastion of strength. If he knew what she knew—but that was the point, wasn’t it?
It was her time now.
2
The Cairn
CENTURION COMPOUND, MARYLAND CITY, MD—
His phone pinged. Leto felt a twinge of annoyance until he saw the number. It was one a.m., but Director Atherton had never cared for the duty patterns of Centurions. Things are happening. Leto dressed in his blue Centurion uniform, sliding the silver-blue gauntlets on. He flexed his fingers, thinking about Gal. The first time she’d reached out to him, he’d tried to trace her number, but it was useless. Their conversations danced around one another, and for a child, she had a quick mind. Things are happening, he told himself again.
He drew in manifest power, his senses snapping into sharp focus. He drew on a coat, despite not truly needing it with the power sluicing into his cells. His walk to Division headquarters was a haze of memory. Rime sparkled on freshly fallen snow over the Centurion campus grounds. His feet crunched through crust and he stamped his boots at the entrance to headquarters. A facial recognition and voice scan, and then he was on the elevator to the top floor. Only after the doors whispered shut did Leto register the nod and greeting from the security guard. His mind was shuffling and reshuffling plans. He needed clarity before seeing the director.
He got off the elevator. Operations buzzed with activity. He delighted in the manifest power for a moment, then released it. The director didn’t like Centurions’ manifesting in his office. There was no way for Atherton to really know, not truly, but Leto appeased the old man. He let go as he grasped the handle, feeling his senses dull. The lights dimmed, the scent of dark-roasted coffee drifted, the breeze of heated air lessened, and voices died to susurrations.
He passed the secretary’s empty desk, pulled off his coat, and strode into the director’s office.
“Director,” he said without preamble, standing at attention.
“Have a seat, Lee,” Atherton said, pulling off his reading glasses.
Leto sat.
“We started Operation Kingfisher.”
Leto glanced at the world clocks behind Atherton’s head. “It’s early.”
“Actually, we’re a little behind schedule. Soon, the Kin will only have two focal points we can push on.”
“What about the PRC?”
“They won’t have anything to do with the South China Sea right now—or at least not in terms of public appearance. They are quiet about their Xian operations, but the secretary knows more than I do.”
Leto frowned. The Xian—the Chinese government’s version of augments—were a secretive group. The US knew where their base of operations lay, but beyond that, the People’s Republic of China used their “Immortals” sparingly compared to the American Centurions and the Russian Federation’s Cosmos. Then there were the French Augmentés, who were far behind by all metrics. He liked the Augmentés in their burgundy uniforms and berets. They had a quaint feel to them, as if they were only playing at being augments. But they were well trained, he knew. “How confident are you we’ll take Dinas?”
“Less confident than our analysts are. You and I know the Kin have technology we haven’t seen yet. They’re launching ships up to that asteroid with not so much as a by-your-leave to the world community. God forbid one of those ships crashes…” Atherton waved a hand and picked up his coffee mug. “It’s in the hands of the DOD, anyway. No way we’re going to get close to that operation internationally. Even if we don’t succeed, it puts MacGabran’s Avallach experiment on notice. Coffee?”
Leto shook his head, his eyes catching sight of the dossier on Atherton’s desk.
Atherton deciphered his expression. “I read your proposal. With all the work toward the Augmented Human Weapons Convention and Kingfisher, I put it aside, but I didn’t forget it.”
Leto rested his palms on his thighs. A chill ran down his back despite the warmth of the room.
“Request denied.”
“Why, sir?” Leto knew the answer, but he wanted the director to say it.
“I’m sorry, Lee. What you’re proposing is clever—brilliant—but it requires someone with command experience, and you don’t have it.”
“You think Kingfisher is more important? We have MacGabran right here—”
“Someone you have ties to.”
“My mother is a LaFayette—”
“Who also is Kin. And your aunt. Your entire family seems to be involved with the Kin.” Atherton pointed at Leto with his mug. “This isn’t against you, Lee. It’s not about you. It’s about perception.”
“I’m one of your first Centurions. I don’t have my family’s fortunes and ties. I’ve given that all over—”
“I said it’s not about you,” Atherton interjected. “I know how you feel. If I put you in charge of your special project, what then? You think it will go well or go to shit? I don’t like things going to shit.”
“I’ve never let you down, sir.” Leto stared hard at Atherton, trying to see what lay behind the older man’s flat brown eyes.
“No, you haven’t. I like your plan. It’s risky, and it depends on things that have yet to pass—”
“It’s just contingency planning—”
“Stop interrupting me, Lee.”
Leto stared at his hands. He had known it was a long shot. But he also knew that he’d built up his credibility in his years working with the Centurions as their youngest recruit.
Atherton took a deep breath and pulled open a drawer. He tossed a metal box across the desk. “Happy birthday, Lee.”
Leto opened the box and spilled three glittering golden rings into his hand. Caliburn—Arthur MacGabran’s focal rings. The rings that gave him his manifest powers, like Leto’s own gauntlets.
“You don’t like them?” Atherton said.
“I don’t understand. Why these rings? I can use the gauntlets well enough.”
“These are one of a kind. I can’t very well destructively test them or take them apart to find out how they work. I also can’t have them sitting around in a vault waiting to be stolen. Why not have you use them? They work just as well as the gauntlets, right?”
“More or less. The retuning sleeves make them work just fine for me. Thank you, sir.”
Atherton waved it away. “I wouldn’t go around wearing them, considering the environment. I hope you regard it a gesture of my complete faith in you, Centurion LaFayette. A token of your loyalty, despite my earlier remark about perceptions.”
“Of course, sir,” Leto said, slipping the rings into his suit’s waist pocket.
“Coffee?”
“No, sir,” Leto replied automatically. Atherton knew he didn’t like coffee but always offered out of habit. Atherton was an old dog, and Leto let him get through his routine.
Atherton made another cup and eased himself into his high-backed leather chair. “How do you like your current duty?”
“It’s not what I’d call exciting, but it is duty.” I’d prefer command.
“It’s boring, as most work is.”
“You’re expecting something to happen.”
Atherton’s eyes became hard. “I expect it anytime. As for when specifically things could happen, who knows? The Accords will be a trigger. The Suns have been restless these last few months.”
“The Suns of Apollo are hardly a threat, not at least from the reports I review, sir. Profiles are demographically nonhomogenous, but not terrorist related or inclined to violence, except a few cells we hear very little of.”
“The Suns have always been a pain in the ass. I don’t care what the analysts say. Analysts!” Atherton slugged coffee. “They delayed our work here at Citadel and let Avallach free the Chevaliers to join the rest of their Kin.” Atherton spat the last word out like a slur.
It made Leto wonder if Atherton hadn’t put something into his coffee. The Suns’ helping the Chevaliers was ancient history. Leto realized how eaten away his mentor was. He tried to remember the last time he’d seen Atherton. It had been a few months when he’d gone through his periodic review. Does he see me as docile? Fool. Leto never chafed at the augment restrictions placed upon him, but that only showed how little the director really knew. And now, with the old man sitting in front of him, Leto saw someone out of his depth. John Atherton was shrewd, to be sure, but happenstance and luck had put him in the right place at the right time. Leto liked Atherton and thought of him as a mentor, but with this denial, he had to realize Atherton didn’t care about him. Leto was just a tool and Caliburn was a reminder of that.
Atherton was obsessed with controlling and reining in the augments called the Kin—enhanced humans who owed no allegiance to anyone but Arthur MacGabran and those of his Avallach ilk. Atherton had tunnel vision that brought him almost dictatorial power within the Division, but little outside of it.
It was little wonder that Leto had gained the attention of those outside of the Centurion program. There were those above Atherton’s level who’d seen his proposal—Leto had been smart enough to shop it around to the right people. Sitting in front of Atherton now, talking business, reminded Leto that the director was of limited mind and value. That was sad. Did Gal see Leto the same way? She held back something from him. If it came down to it, could Gal kill him? It was an unsettling thought. He’d have to be prepared for that option. His thoughts drifted, and he refocused on Atherton’s scowl.
Leto settled back. “You think the Suns remain a threat?”
“It’s nothing I can convince my bosses about. The chatter just isn’t there. At least, it’s nowhere we can find it, thanks to Dr. Myrrdin’s efforts.” Atherton’s scowl deepened. “You should be extra vigilant, Lee. When the Kin are threatened, they will retaliate.”
Leto’s gaze drifted to the large wall display where all the known augmented humans were identified. Atherton’s assessment of Avallach, their bastions and leaders, wasn’t quite the same as Leto’s. The Kin had three major locations—Perilous, in what was now Qabr, Libya; the orbital asteroid station called Avalon; and the South Pacific facility known as Dinas. The latter was the first prong of the Centurion push to oust the Kin from their strongholds. It wouldn’t be easy, and the Kin had to know this was their most open target. Avalon and Perilous were hardly assailable, not with their sovereignty claims with the United Nations. Those two locations also had powerful leaders in Dr. Anora Myrrdin and Indiana Beckham, respectively. But it had been long established that Leto’s own mother, Morgan LaFayette, controlled Dinas. He made a mental note to review the latest intelligence reports and the after-action if the task force captured Dinas.
“You’re worried about your mother?”
Leto’s frowned deepened. He must’ve seen me looking at Dinas. “I don’t care either way. Your concern for my retaliation is misplaced with Operation Kingfisher, sir. Should we increase our presence in the Cairn?”
Atherton chuckled. “I don’t think we could do much more than we have already.” He shook his head. “We built the Cairn within Centurion grounds for a reason. We have our own stronghold the Kin can’t penetrate. We’re not half as strong as they are, but the Kin have shown a reluctance to take on augments directly.”
“They feel there’s a familial bond between those of the same… enhancement.” The words left bitterness in his mouth. Leto had familial bonds himself, and look where it had gotten him. Nowhere.
Atherton waved a hand. “It’s no difference to them. They’ll gladly absorb any Centurion or Cosmo they can get their hands on. Bonds, they think, are their greatest strength.”
“It’s their technology, really,” Leto said. “There’s something going on at Dinas.”
Atherton steepled his fingertips, his eyes questioning. For all his reluctance, Atherton still held Leto’s analysis and thoughts in high regard. Small comfort, tool.
“It’s hard to get much data from Dinas. It’s almost a black hole. It’s invisible to outside detection, and communications to and from are tightly controlled and well hidden. What I’ve seen from reports is that there are… interesting things going into Dinas. Binary Systems gained quantum computing prototypes last year. Before that, they acquired new nanomolecular technology.”
“I’ve seen what Myrrdin’s old company acquired. R & D is still parsing together what that all means.”
“What about the metric tons of fertilizer and plant stock from the seed vault in Svalbard?”
“I don’t understand what that’s all about. Do you?”
Leto shook his head. “It’s confusing. Avallach has to know we’re watching what they’re doing, even if we can’t match their technological output. But nothing I’ve read or seen has ever shown that the Kin do things on a whim. We can infer a lot by separating out the components, but it’s difficult to see what they are doing as a whole. Fertilizer as explosives, for example. That doesn’t fit the Kin, who have destructive technology thousands of times more effective. They’re building something, though. More than one something. And there’s their new spaceship…”
“The Divining Grace is at Qabr, half a planet away.” Atherton downed his coffee. “We can agree that whatever technological advantage Dinas has will have to be nullified. If we wait any longer, we won’t be able to.”
Leto stood. “Is there anything else?”
“Keep abreast of the operation. Once the actual assault begins, there will be plenty of live coverage. Be alert. I’ve been outwitted by MacGabran before, and I’ll be damned if he does it again.”
“Yes, sir,” Leto said. Something’s bothering the old man, Leto thought as he left the office. Does he know something I don’t? Leto’s fingers felt the rings in his uniform pocket as he buttoned his coat. Is he trying to curry favor? The Caliburn rings are dangerous talismans of Arthur MacGabran. No, they are mine now. Things are happening.
* * *
The Cairn was not some Cheyenne Mountain or movie prison. It was a simple structure, a squat two stories, and its entire job was to hold one person. They’d set it apart from the rest of the buildings at the Centurion compound. Solemn and dark, the Cairn’s irregular shape was unmistakable even at night. Leto used the mile-long walk to think. His proposal was a grand plan, and he knew it would work. Damn, he wanted it to work. If only he could get Atherton to see it his way. His disappointment frosted over like the snow, cold and empty. Not the birthday gift I was expecting.
