Sunset: Pact Arcanum: Book One (55 page)

“The honor was mine. Execute AI shutdown protocol.”

“Offline.”

Michael turned again, squinting at the missile. “Hey, bitch!” he yelled. “You’re mine now!” His hands moved suddenly on the controls, and the view of the sky shifted.

On the other screen, the jumpship leapt ahead of the missile and spun ninety degrees into its path. The missile slammed into the ship dead center. The cockpit view went black as the exterior view erupted in blinding white.

“New tactical update received,” Rapier said after seconds. “Anchorpoint Control reports an airborne thermonuclear detonation eight miles southwest of the city center. The blast wave impacted but did not penetrate the municipal shield grid, resulting in only minor damage to the most outlying structures. Radiation exposure protocols are now being implemented.” The AI paused for a moment. “It appears Captain Danvers was successful.”

“Icarus,” Toby said quietly. “His name was Icarus.”

The three stood in silence for several minutes before a voice interrupted them. “Nicholas.”

They all turned as Layla appeared behind them. “Congratulations, Archangel,” she said, gazing fixedly at Nick. “You played your part well.”

C
HAPTER 45

“What are you talking about?” Nick asked angrily. “I wasn’t playing at anything.”

“Yes, you were, Nick.” She stared at him impassively. “You just didn’t know the rules of the game.”

She stepped past them to stare at the electronic map, the missile telltale blinking at the location where its transponder signal had been lost. “For thousands of years, we have wondered what the consequences would be if we were discovered by humans. The possibility of war with the humans, if we could not find a way to coexist, has been the subject of Armistice Security simulations for years. The nuclear destruction of Anchorpoint or one of the other Hidden Cities at the hands of humanity has always formed a major component of those simulations.

“The details varied, depending on the starting parameters, but the progression was virtually always the same: a war of retribution by the Armistice against humankind or, failing that, an invasion of the Armistice Zone by the Court of Shadows to take advantage of our weakness. More often than not, a war on two fronts was predicted. We would have been stronger but vastly outnumbered.

“The war would have continued to escalate until both sides destroyed each other completely, finally resorting to nuclear and gravitic weapons, resulting in the extermination of all life in North America and the decimation of the rest of the planetary population. The global ecologic collapse that followed would have snuffed out any survivors.”

Layla sat wearily in one of the workstation chairs, her eyes intent on Nick. “You were never told the full findings of our projections because we knew that such a war was unwinnable. We have known since before Los Angeles that we would not be able to stop the killing once the war began. There was only one thing we were sure of—that when the moment came, we could not afford to be divided. The Triumvirate system of government could not function in wartime. We needed a single leader, someone who would be instantly recognizable to our people, someone who could galvanize our defense and lead us into battle. After Los Angeles, we knew there was only one logical choice for the job.”

Nick stared at her. “You set me up,” he whispered.

She nodded. “We modified the Armageddon Protocols specifically so that you would be able to lead our people if we were eliminated. We appointed you Ambassador to Humanity so the humans would come to know you, making you a familiar face should the need to negotiate a settlement be required. We kept you in the dark to prevent you from doubting yourself, and we arranged for the entire resources of the Armistice to be placed at your disposal when you needed them.”

Nick shook his head in denial. “No. Rory wouldn’t do that. Not to me. We shared a double bridge. I would have known if he were planning to betray me.”

“Not if it was hidden in plain sight. It was never a betrayal for him, Nicholas. He believed in you. He hoped you would have the strength to do what was necessary for our people to survive, even if we were taken out of play. And you succeeded. You gave the order that prevented the destruction of the world. Everything you have been through, everything you have suffered, finally gave you the strength of will to ask an innocent to die for you.” She smiled. “I must admit, I had my doubts. But you have proven me wrong. You are a player, after all.”

Nick stalked forward, snarling. His eyes burned red with rage. “It wasn’t a game, you bitch! He was just a kid, for God’s sake, not a fucking chess piece!”

Layla stood, not backing down, her voice remaining rigidly controlled. “Not a chess piece, Nick—a weapon. Just as every Sentinel is a weapon from the moment they open their eyes. But you’re right, he wasn’t like the other Sentinels you have known. Spacers are not soldiers. They are born from the first generation of civilians we have created since the end of the First Age. That’s why they don’t mix well with Dirtsiders, as they call us. They just can’t relate. We’re all too tainted by war and bloodshed. It would never have occurred to one of them to use a jumpship as a weapon. That thought required a warrior’s mind, Nicholas.
Your mind
.”

A tumult of emotions washed over Nick’s face. “He was just a kid,” he repeated tonelessly.

Nemesis shook her head. “He was more than that, Nicholas. Much more. I know you don’t keep up with off-world events because of your condition. But in Spacer circles, Michael Danvers was just as famous as you are. A brilliant pilot and navigator—finishing his Cadet training in a single year with the highest overall rating in the history of the program. He served with distinction on three ships afterward, leaping up through the ranks to be awarded the rank of Captain on his fifteenth birthday—younger than anyone else since the Guild was founded.

“They all loved him. He became a symbol of everything they aspired to. The crews he served with organized a write-in campaign to elect him Guildmaster, and he would have had a good shot if he hadn’t taken his name out of contention. The only reason he was flying a class-three cargo vessel was because he wanted to. It’s the only jumpship small enough to be operated by a single crewmember. Solitude appealed to him. Or so he said when he was asked why he declined command of the Odyssey Expedition.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. “That was him?”

“Heard about that, did you?” Nemesis pinned him with a stare.

“Raf mentioned it—the Captain who refused to be part of history. I never bothered to find out his name.”

“When Captain Danvers activated his failsafe protocol, his AI automatically began a continuous dump of all data to the Master Navigation AI at the Citadel, including the audiovisual records of the command module recorder. When the Guildmaster realized what was happening and whom it involved, he commandeered the master FTL communications array at the Citadel and rebroadcast that datastream to every Armistice vessel and facility in the Solar System.

“They all saw, Nicholas. The last few minutes of your conversation were being watched in real time by every Spacer in the fleet and all of the colonists on every world. We’re already getting reports that jumpships throughout the fleet have changed course back to Earth so they can see the place where he died for themselves.”

Nick hung his head. “I killed their hero; they must be screaming for my blood.”

“No, I don’t think so. Captain Danvers was a private person. They watched him open up more to you, an Earthbound Dirtsider, than he had with any of them. They know he refused to let you save his life. No doubt they’re grateful you didn’t leave him to die alone.”

“Is it over then? I did what you wanted.”

Nemesis nodded. “The game is over, Nicholas. Finally and truly over. For now, at least, you are free.”

Nick exhaled shakily. “Free.” He walked around the unconscious bodies to stand over Kensington and Medusa. After regarding his opponents soberly for a few moments, he then turned to face Jeremy. “Full circle, Leshir,” he said quietly. “The day we met, I told you nothing was as precious as a second chance. This is mine.”

Jeremy’s eyes betrayed none of his thoughts. “So what are you going to do with it?”

“This isn’t the right time or the right place,” said Nick. “There has been so much death, so much pain. Maybe it will never be right. I have waited so long, but I was always too afraid to take the risk. I didn’t know what I might lose next. Now, I finally have a chance to do what I want—what I have always wanted. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Jeremy frowned slightly. “I don’t understand.”

In the midst of their fallen enemies, Nick fell to one knee. “Jeremy Kenneth Harkness, will you marry me?”

I
CARUS

C
HAPTER 46

December 2041; Phoenix, Arizona; Two months later

“Now, who could that be at this time of night?” Margaret Danvers stopped clearing away the dinner dishes and glanced at the wall clock. “Jason, would you get the door?”

“Sure.” Her husband made his way out of the dining room to the hallway. “Whoever you are, it’s kind of late for visitors,” he said, as he unlocked the door.

“I won’t take up too much of your time, Mr. Danvers.” Nick stood on the front porch flanked by Scott and Ana, a small bag slung over one shoulder.

Jason Danvers stared at him and then looked past them at the cordon of armed Sentinels on his lawn. Swallowing, he turned back to Nick. “You’re the Ambassador. I’ve seen you on TV.”

“My name is Nicholas Magister Luscian, and actually, I’m not the Ambassador anymore. Can I come in? I need to speak to you and your wife for a few minutes.”

Jason hesitated and then stood back and wordlessly opened the door. Nick stepped past him, across the threshold and into the hallway.

“Aren’t they coming, too?” Jason nodded to the other Sentinels on the porch.

Nick shook his head. “I have to do this alone. They’re just here to make sure nothing happens to me. I’ll rejoin them as soon as I’ve had a chance to speak to the two of you alone.”

Jason Danvers closed and locked the front door and then led Nick into the living room. “Meg,” he called. “We’ve got a visitor.”

Margaret Danvers stopped in shock as she entered the living room and recognized Nick.

“Mrs. Danvers, hello. I was hoping for a moment of your time. I’m Nicholas Magister Luscian, the current President of the Armistice.”

Her husband recovered first. “Um, okay. So what can we do for you, Mr. President?”

“‘Nick’ is fine, sir. Do you mind if we sit?”

“Certainly, Nick,” said Margaret. “Please make yourself comfortable. Is there something I can get for you?”

“No, Ma’am, that’s not necessary.” Nick sat in one of the chairs around the coffee table and placed the bag next to him on the floor. Opposite, on the couch, Margaret and Jason Danvers stared at him expectantly.

“I didn’t know the Armistice had a President.” Margaret looked at him curiously. “I thought everything was run by the Triumvirate.”

“I took command during the attack on our capital two months ago. The Triumvirate laughed in my face when I tried to return power.” He gave them a look of wounded dignity. “‘President’ was the least objectionable title they came up with for me. Takeshi wanted to name me ‘Dictator for Life’ and just take an extended vacation. It took some concessions on my part, but they have agreed to stay on as my principal advisers to provide continuity of leadership and continue arbitrating disputes among the Free People.”

“We heard about the attack on the news,” Jason said quietly. “I’m sorry that our people were involved. When do the trials begin?”

Nick shrugged. “Treason is a delicate matter, Mr. Danvers, even when it’s as egregious as launching a nuclear missile at your own country. It’ll probably be tied up in court for quite a while.” He leaned forward and fidgeted nervously. “The attack is what I came to speak to you about, actually. Do you know how we stopped it?”

Margaret gave a small, uncertain nod. “The news reports said you shot the missile down.”

“That was a lie, Mrs. Danvers. The truth is much uglier. It will certainly come out at trial, so I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

“What truth?” asked Jason. “What does this have to do with us?”

“We didn’t shoot it down, Mr. Danvers. I ordered one of our spacecraft pilots to crash his ship into the missile before it could reach the city.”

They stared at him, appalled. “That’s horrible.” Margaret’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“It was a hard decision, Mrs. Danvers. One I honestly regret. But I can’t think of anything else I could have done without letting more than a million people die.”

Mr. Danvers peered suspiciously over his spectacles. “I still don’t see what this has to do with us.”

Nick took a deep breath and steeled his will. “The pilot who sacrificed his life to save the city was a Sentinel named Michael Sebastian Danvers.”