Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1) (19 page)

BOOK: Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1)
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The City, Year 7875 in the Reign of Enki
II

 

Hael
would meet the Emperor today.

As One in the graduating class he would be
presented to the Emperor, who would give him his first commission. He could
reasonably expect to be assigned a command of a squad of ten troopers in the
Northern or Eastern Campaign. If he was unlucky, he would be assigned to the
military archives and work on developing new strategies to defeat the Ferals.
He was not opposed to strategy development — quite the contrary, he had
excelled at it during his studies. He just preferred to get into the field and
apply all the knowledge and skills he had acquired over the past six years at a
practical rather than a theoretic level.

He wanted to do his part to repay the Debt.

He was strapping on his sword when one of
the boys from Bral’s year burst into his room. His words came as gasps as he
tried to catch his breath and to talk at the same time.

“Your brother,” he wheezed, then took a few
deep breaths. “Bral.”

Hael was concerned; good news was never
delivered with such attempted urgency. “Yes, my brother Bral … is there
something wrong?”

The boy nodded. “Bral has been taken to the
infirmary.”

“Come with me, and tell me what you know on
the way.”

The boy slumped; he dreaded another run,
this time while talking. Hael was too worried about his brother to feel too
much sympathy for the boy. However, if he was to get any information out of him
he would need to keep it to a jog while they talked.

They trotted out of his room. “Tell me what
you know.”

“This morning when we woke, the prefect on
duty noticed that Bral was not in his cot. He had us check the other barracks
but no one could find him.”

“Did he alert the Marshals?” asked Hael.

“Yes, as we checked the barracks the
prefect reported Bral’s absence to Mi Donta and they expanded the search. A
little while ago they found him badly beaten in one of the smaller instruction
halls.”

“Why didn’t they send for me sooner?”

“Perhaps they did not want to disturb you
on Graduation day if there was nothing wrong. No one thought it was serious.”

“It looks like they were wrong.”

Hael picked up speed and left the boy
panting in his wake.

 

The bullying had stopped for a few months
after the death of Samael. It started up again a few months later, in small
ways that gradually grew. In the last few weeks Hael had started to worry about
what would happen to Bral when he had left the academy, but he had not thought
that any threat was imminent.

He ran into the infirmary and saw a clump
of people surrounding a figure on a mat on the floor. He slowed a little and
approached. It took him a moment to confirm that it was indeed Bral lying
there. His face was so bruised it was hard to recognize him. His arm was
splinted; it must have been broken. The healers withdrew a little to provide
Bral and him some privacy.

“Bral,” he said softly.

Bral turned his head and croaked out,
“Congratulations, Ga Hael.”

“Bral, you can’t call me that, not yet,
anyway. I haven’t been commissioned yet.” Hael crouched and took his youngest
brother’s hand. “What happened, Bral?”

“I am so sorry, Hael, I didn’t want to ruin
your day.

“Don’t you dare apologize to me. This is
not your fault.”

“If only I was stronger –”

“Nonsense, it isn’t your fault that they
pick on you. I will talk to Mi Donta and see if he can do anything.”

“No, leave it. Please. That will only make
things worse. It’s not just the other boys; the instructors don’t like me
either, mostly because I’m not you. I don’t pick things up as quickly as you
do. The younger boys and some of the boys in your year worship you. There is
even a rumor that Mi Donta was overheard stating that he has never seen a more
promising cadet than you. To them all, I am a disappointment.”

“Don’t say that, Bral. Don’t compare
yourself to me, or to anyone else. We all repay the Debt according to our
strengths. My contribution will be no more or less valuable than yours.”

“Humble too.” He laughed briefly and
bitterly. “It is just so much to live up to, and I can’t do it Hael. Not
anymore.”

“You need to stick it out. You have spent
four years on this path; don’t throw it away. What will you do if you leave?
Our family has only ever served in the military. Just get through one more
year, please? After that we will talk about it again.”

“I… I’ll try, I just don’t know if I can do
it.”

 

The Graduation ceremony did not include a
lot of pomp or speeches, but it took time. Each of the two hundred and six boys
who were graduating walked into the amphitheater according to their final
raking to be presented to the Marshals.

As One, Hael was at the front. The ceremony
was very simple but, even so, Hael and, he was sure, his peers felt a little
anxious and excited as each one of them knelt in front of the two marshals and
offered their sword to Mi Donta. Mi Donta accepted each sword and cast it into
a barrel of oil for storage. Mi Zabab then drew a new sword from a rack and
touched each boy on the head with it, before passing it to him by the blade.

After accepting his new bronze blade and
sheathing it, Hael backed away so Two could be presented with his new blade.
Hael then allowed himself to relax a little and looked at the crowd watching
from the observation seats in the amphitheater. His parents were trying to look
happy for him, but he could tell they were worried about Bral. Lucan was not
present, as he had been sent to support the Northern Campaign a few months
previously. By all accounts he was doing well and had already been promoted
from the Ga to Ja, Junior Lieutenant to Senior Lieutenant.

All those ranked One to Ten would be able
to start using the Ga title after Hael was presented to the Emperor and he
symbolically commissioned them all through Hael. The rest of the graduates
would be assigned to other positions in the Imperial Army, mostly as troopers;
however, some of the more highly ranked graduates could find themselves on a
fast track to becoming officers, if they performed well in the field.

Hael himself was hoping to shortly become
Ja Hael and then Fa Hael and so on. In the Campaigns, field promotions could
progress you through the ranks much more quickly than a strategic position in
the City would. Based on the news that trickled into the City, it appeared that
Feral aggression was on the upswing, meaning that there would be many
opportunities to prove himself.

After the last of the former Academics had
been presented with his new sword, Mi Donta and Mi Zabab led Hael out of the
amphitheater and to a waiting palanquin that would take him to the Emperor’s
palace.

 

The red and gold palanquin that would be
transporting Hael to the Palace was flanked by two lit braziers, which provided
the only light in the dark interior courtyard that housed the Academy’s
vehicles. The palanquin was relatively modest; the amount of gilt and
decoration would typically indicate that the owner was a Captain in the
Military. The sigil on the door was a single sheathed sword, the Academy’s
seal. The dancing shadows cast by the braziers’ flames hid the Academy’s other
two palanquins. Hael had seen them before, on the rare occasion that he had
witnessed one of the Marshals leave the Academy. They put the palanquin in
which he would be travelling to the Palace to shame. This did not matter at all
to Hael; he had never travelled in a palanquin before, and any covered chair
was a luxury to him. Needless to say, the relatively humble nature of his vehicle
meant that his journey through the Imperial Quarter would be a drawn out affair,
as his bearers would need to give way to just about every other vehicle in the
hub of the Empire’s power. He expected that the Marshals would leave long after
he did and still arrive at the Palace before he did.

The interior courtyard was walled by stone
and roofed by wood and clay tile to prevent theft of any of the gold leaf that
coated the carved wooden exteriors of the vehicles and to protect the soft,
cloth-lined interiors from the elements. Set into one wall of the courtyard was
a heavy gate made of cypress logs and bound with iron bands. The gate led to a
short hallway that in turn led to an exterior gate, a twin to the interior one.
The Academy, like many of the buildings in the Administrative and Imperial
Quarters of the City, was a virtual fortress. The imposing strength was more
due to fashion rather than any real defensive need. Not since the rebellion had
fortifications been required within the City walls.

The double gates fit snugly into their
portals, admitting little to no sunlight, hence the courtyard’s gloom.

If he had not been so distracted by the
sight of his ride and if the flames from the braziers had been brighter, he may
have noticed that one of the corners of the courtyard appeared to be more
shadowed then the others. If he had been particularly vigilant he may have even
seen a flash of golden hair and pale skin; alas, he did not see either.

The Ferals who would be carrying him filed
into the room and picked up the palanquin. He held on tightly as he was tipped
slightly one way and then the other as the slaves straightened up.

The inner gate opened and the palanquin
flowed forward into the lighter inner hallway. Hael could finally look forward
to putting the Academy behind him and to starting his adult life.

The inner gate started to close, then
stopped while still ajar. One of the medics from the infirmary slipped through
the gate and ran up to Hael, and he could tell it was more bad news.

It was. It appeared that Bral had tried to
take his own life.

He was going to be expelled for cowardice.

Chapter 8
Edinburgh, Scotland, 2015

 

Little
Eve was furious at Baby when she returned.

Baby? No, make that Rebecca. Anticipating
this request, she had managed to score some heroin on the way back to the flat.

Little Eve:
Where the fuck were you? If
Leader had checked we would have both have been in the shit, in the merde, I
mean.

Little Eve really was angry to let her
persona slip like that.

Rebecca –> Eve:
I NEEDED SOMETHING TO
TAKE THE EDGE OFF. I’M STARVING.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, why do I even bother
talking to you like a person? Since you are still more animal than person, we
will speak aloud, like animals.”

“Sorry.” Rebecca pulled out a bag of
heroin, a large bag. “Look, I have drugs. Good stuff too.”

“D’accord.” Eve snatched the bag and walked
into the kitchenette. Through the doorway she shouted, “Why did you leave so
quickly?”

“As I was scanning for Charlie, I came
across this bloke who was passed out beside this bag in his apartment down the
road. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“So you jumped up and ran out of here to
get some heroin?”

Rebecca nodded.

“Bien, good girl. With no culling I feel I
am shriveling inside. This will numb the pain for a while. Let’s cook.”

Rebecca had actually needed to mug a few of
the local drug dealers she knew of to accumulate a bag large enough to distract
Little Eve.

When one is virtually immortal, you could
afford to indulge in all the best vices. No lung cancer, no cirrhosis of the
liver and no overdosing. When not manipulating others and feeding off their
emotions, they tended to indulge more than normal. Leader’s moratorium on
culling, on feeding off the emotions of others, was making them all jittery. The
worst part for Eve and Rebecca was that they knew that Don and Lew were
probably getting some on their stake-out. They would have some half-assed
excuse for needing to cull someone to carry out their mission, but it would be
bullshit. They caused pain and killed because they craved it. They all did.

The girls had been shut up in the flat with
nothing more than cigarettes and vodka for far too long. Rebecca knew that
Little Eve would not question her too much, as long as she brought home some
goodies. And H was Little Eve’s favorite pharma treat.

Rebecca would need to drug Eve into a
stupor and try to sneak out again to see Finn. She needed time to speak to him.

Tomorrow, though. Right now she really,
really needed a fix.

 

She studied his building from up the road.
The building looked much the same as the other buildings along that particular
stretch of Johnston Terrace. The building was four stories of charcoal-streaked
grey stone. His red door was sandwiched between a small pub and a jewelry shop
that took up the ground floor of the building.

“I like this ring,” said Rebecca to the old
woman in the jewelers. “Is it silver?”

“Oh yes, sterling silver, a Rennie
Mackintosh design.”

“Hmm, very nice.” She looked around and
said, “Actually, you have lots of nice things. Have you been here long?”

“Oh, aye, fifteen year or thereabouts. I
suppose to a young girl like you, that’s a long time. To me it doesnae seem
so.”

“I suppose the street hasn’t changed much
in that time. These buildings, they’re all so old.”

“No, nothing has changed much. Pubs open
then close and are replaced by others. The only real change I can recall is
about ten years ago when the flats upstairs were all bought up. There was
construction for months. It soon quieted down. They said it was just one man
who made flats into one large home. I’ve never seen him. He keeps to himself.”

“Really, the whole space is just for one
bloke? He must be rolling in it.”

“Aye, that’s the rumor.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tried
to break in.”

“Aye, they have tried. Once in a while
someone gets the idea that his richness upstairs should be supporting the local
community a little more directly and tries to break in. No one has succeeded
yet.” The old woman looked around a little self-consciously. “He has
security,
you see. He has a steel inner door, toughened glass windows, cameras, the whole
kit and caboodle. I’ve even heard a rumor that there is a stairway that goes
down into the old buried part of the city. It's all very mysterious.” The old
woman was not really sure why she was giving the girl so much information. She
was not usually such a gossip, but when she looked into the girl’s eyes she
could not seem to look away and wanted to tell her everything she knew. She was
working for every encouraging nod and sound of approval.

“Yes, he certainly does sound intriguing.”
Rebecca turned back to the ring. “So how much was the ring again?”

The old woman gave herself a little shake,
coming back to herself. “Hmm, the ring, yes, let me see.” She picked up the
ring and held it out at arm’s length to look at the tiny numbers on the scrap
of paper wrapped around it. “Fifty, but we are having a sale, ten percent off,
so forty five?”

“I’ll need to think about it,” said
Rebecca. “I may be back later in the week.”

 

Seeing Bex had been a shock. He always
felt, no, he
knew
— deep down in his bones, he knew — that she was alive
out there somewhere, but seeing her face to face had sent a knife through his
heart. He could still feel the ache in his chest. The ache he thought he had
put away in a box, never to be reopened. He knew she wasn’t the same person he
fell in love with all those years ago, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t care
that she was now a monster. He still loved her and always would. His love for her
was as vast as the world. Almost as vast as his hate for her kind and what they
did to him.

He put her from his mind and focused on his
laptop; he needed to finalize his data analysis.

It was gratifying how his work on the
sensors had meshed so well with his side project with Charlie. With the sensors
implanted on her brain, he could see which neural pathways triggered when he
hurt her and what was going on in her brain as she healed.

Prior to implanting the sensors, he had had
scanned her across a large part of the electromagnetic spectrum as she healed,
monitoring the rise in her body temperature as she healed, as well as the drop
in ambient temperature. He found that she extracted heat from the environment
as her body repaired the cell damage he inflicted. It was fascinating, but he
had no idea how she did it.

With the added data from the sensors, he
could see some very interesting areas of her brain light up as she healed. He
had even managed to halt her healing response by suppressing those same areas
of her brain with electrical impulses delivered through the sensors. If he
could stimulate those same areas in his own brain — but better not to get ahead
of himself. First he needed to perfect the implantation device.

He had successfully penetrated her skull to
the correct depth five more times since he first used the device. He had also
penetrated too deeply twice, resulting in some minor temporary brain damage. He
was making rapid progress, but the appearance of Bex on the scene had changed
his timeline.

He had known that there was a high
probability that Charlie’s coven would eventually find him, but he hoped for
more time. If Bex was alive, she must have been accepted into Charlie’s coven.
He would need to dispose of Charlie soon, just like he had done with prior test
subjects.

There was no other alternative; he needed
to run the data through some simulations on the mainframe they had at his
R&D facility on the outskirts of town. That would allow him to perfect the
implantation process and help him decide exactly where to implant sensors when
he was ready to become his own subject.

He had also noticed some extremely
interesting brain activity when she was left alone and conscious in the lab for
a few minutes. It was similar to the brain activity that accompanied speech,
but slightly offset. It was halfway between the activity triggered by singing
and talking, but much more intense. He thought that he may be detecting her
attempts to contact her coven telepathically. It was fascinating.

“House,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. Alexander,” the voice with the
faint Welsh accent replied.

“Call Lindsay for me, will you?”

He heard a brief dial tone then the sound
of a phone ringing at the other end of the line.

“Hello, Mr. Alexander, what can I do for
you?”

“Can you send over a car? I’ll be coming
into the office.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second,
surprised. He had not been in the office for more than a year. “Yes, of course.
The car will be there in half an hour.”

“And Lindsay, have IT clear everything off
the mainframe. I need to use it.”

“Everything? But, Mr. Alexander, no one
will be able to do anything without the mainframe. It will take weeks to
reimage it and get everything back on track when you are done.”

“Everything. See you soon.”

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