Read New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance Online

Authors: C.J. Carella

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New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance (6 page)

BOOK: New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance
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“I didn’t mean to scare her so much,” Christine said sweetly.

“Scare her? Yes, I believe you did, although I wouldn’t be so bold as to say that to her face. She might react harshly.”

She already reacted pretty effing harshly
, Christine thought. Good thing there were no mirrors in the cell. She didn’t want to see what that uber-bitch had done to her face. Only knowing she would heal eventually had prevented her from completely losing it.

The Tsar looked at her quietly for several seconds. Maybe he was expecting her to say something to fill the awkward silence.
Sorry, dude, I’m not going to beg or ask questions you aren’t going to answer.

“You may be curious to know what is in store for you,” he finally said. “You obviously can’t be trusted in your current mental state. We will need to change it, make you into a more pliable subject. The methods involved will be severely unpleasant.” He paused again to give her a chance to respond. She spent the quiet time doing some math in her head. “There is an alternative, however.” Another pause.

Fine
. “Such as?”

“You could cooperate willingly. We would have to establish certain safeguards, of course. For instance, the moment we suspected you of any deceit or trickery, we would execute your companion. It is my hope, however, that once you understand the stakes involved, you will agree that helping our cause is the best course of action.”

Well, that was different. None of the previous Big Bads had tried to reason with her. She was pretty sure the Iron Tsar was playing Good Cop, just like Mark had warned her, but it couldn’t hurt to hear him out, and it could well hurt a lot to not hear him out. “All right, your imperious majesty Mr. Tsar, sir. I’m listening.”

“Ah. I’m very pleased to hear that, Miss Dark. I will try to be brief.”



Christine opened a channel to her faceless boyfriend and listened to the Tsar’s spiel.

Chapter Five

 

Face-Off

 

Kiev, Dominion of the Ukraine, March 28, 2013

The Tsar’s words came through loud and clear; my mind-link with Christine was getting stronger.

“I believe you have been made aware of the conflict between two powerful factions in the larger universe,” the bucket-headed asshole began, sounding just as pompous and self-important as the comics portrayed him.

“Yes,” Christine replied. “The Cosmic Nerds in the center of our galaxy, among many others, and the Outsiders.”

“Indeed. Your father and I, among some others, were deceived by an agent of those Outsiders, by a man you know as Mr. Night.”

Christine said.


The Tsar continued his lecture: “Mr. Night and others of his ilk sabotaged the Source from the beginning, you see. We believe the civilization that sent the Source to us intended to select a small group of worthy men, people with the moral fortitude to act as guides and teachers for our species. The Outsider agents somehow interfered with the process, forcing the Source to bestow its gifts at random, blessing the unworthy and the worthy by sheer chance. Weaklings, the mentally defective, and other lesser men and women were given far more power than they could safely handle. The results plague us to this day, and the situation is growing worse.

“I was already growing concerned when Daedalus Smith contacted me. His access to the world’s demographic data was better than mine. He confirmed my fears: the number of Neolympians is growing at an increasing pace, even more so in terms of sheer power. More so-called Type Threes like you and I are being created with every passing year. The destruction these new, often insane superhumans can cause is incalculable. Mr. Smith predicted that in less than a decade from now, human civilization will collapse under the stress. Perhaps sooner. An insane Neolympian wielding enough power to defeat all comers and commit genocide on a planetary scale could rise up at any second.”



Christine said.

“… be happy to show you the charts and graphs if you would like,” the Iron Tsar was saying. I shut up so I could listen in.

“No, I believe you. So what’s your plan?”

“We need to gain access to the Source and stop this insane random process wherein anybody can one day wake up with the power of a god. Daedalus Smith is ready to arrange a war between Neolympians, and eventually between Neolympians and all of humanity, in an effort to curb the number of super-beings in the planet, by the simple expedient of killing them in job lots; that plan is no more than a stopgap at best, however. If need be, I was prepared to use the Outsider’s energies to contain the Source before it destroyed us all. Your father had a better plan, one that has a much greater chance of success.”

“Me. I’m the plan, right? I can link to the Source and stop it from giving superpowers to random peeps.”

“Yes. However, you have the capability, but neither the maturity nor the experience to avoid being corrupted by the process. Therefore, you must grant that access to someone other than yourself.”

“Let me guess. You nominate yourself for job. And I guess Daedalus nominates himself. Were you guys going to share the grand prize?”

“That was our arrangement, although I don’t think Smith has the inner strength needed for the job. The man is too treacherous, and he is too fond of making deals with the Outsiders. He has even tried to make use of Mr. Night, knowing full well the loathsome creature’s designs for our species. Still, better the two of us take over the Source than to have its power spread around until we are at the mercy of the least stable among us. Daedalus is due to arrive in a day. He has a number of devices designed to break your will, to turn you into a mindless husk that will do anything we ask. I’d rather you willingly surrender your burden to me. It will spare you from a great deal of suffering and a fate worse than death.”


I replied.



“What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Dark?” the Tsar asked, clearly growing impatient.

“I need some time to think about it, okay? For one, how do I know that the second you have access to the Source you won’t just kill me?”

“I give you my word. Oh, I will strip you of most of your powers, although in recognition for your sacrifice I will let you keep your longevity and most of your relatively paltry but still superhuman physical attributes. I will even return you to your reality, should you wish so. There you can live out your days in peace, and enjoy the privileges of your nature in a world where you will be unique. I will also spare your friend; he can join you in exile once I diminish his power. The two of you could easily become the rulers of your planet.”

Christine commented dryly.



She spoke before Bucket-Head got antsy. “Can I sleep on it?”

“Of course. Daedalus Smith will arrive sometime after noon tomorrow. At that point the process of reducing your will to resist us shall commence in earnest. You have until then to decide.”

Christine reported a moment later.

I didn’t mention I’d been in that situation for almost two days already. It was painful, uncomfortable and humiliating, but she’d handle it.




That wasn’t all, though.


I was about to describe the entire Table of Organization and Equipment of the Dominion Army when she shushed me.

Christine had told me about her vision, about being told by her alternative self that she would get to watch me die. She clearly wasn’t going to let that happen.

I got back a mental nod from her, a very emphatic one.

I would just have to pull my weight or get killed quickly along the way. I figured I could manage at least one of the two.

The Freedom Legion

 

Kiev, Dominion of the Ukraine, March 28, 2013

After surviving the grueling selection process, where half of the participants had died or suffered crippling injuries, as often as not inflicted by their fellow candidates, he and the rest of the winners had undergone four years of intense training. Each student had been assigned two servants, one male, one female, a year or two younger than themselves. Those servants had served the students’ every need, from fixing meals to satisfying them sexually. They had been the only human contact he’d enjoyed, outside the other students and their taciturn and brutal instructors.

The servants had become friends, confidants, lovers.

On the final day of training, just before being granted the Sigils of Power that would turn the students into Celestial Warriors, he had been handed a long knife and given a final order: kill his servants. Some students had hesitated, and in doing so, failed the ultimate test. He had taken the knife and followed his orders. The last remnants of humanity and compassion had been bled out of him on that day, had died along with his dear companions.

Chastity Baal woke up, the images of a life she’d never lived still flashing before her eyes.

Sleep had become a chore this last fortnight. She’d unwillingly fallen asleep on the bullet train connecting Lutsk and Kiev; the false memories had ensured she gained precious little rest from it.

She straightened up in her seat, aware of some odd-looking glances from her fellow passengers. At some point during the nightmare, she must have cried out, very likely in Mandarin. That was terrible fieldcraft, something she would have never normally done. Not since she’d been a child had she fallen asleep without wishing to do so.

The soul she’d stolen via Daedalus Smith’s cursed dagger was slowly destroying her mind. The mysterious weapon had saved her life, but at a price she would have never willingly paid.

Chastity looked at the scar on her right palm, where the dagger had burned her and left an indelible mark. Far from the first time, she considered getting rid of the weapon. Once again, she dismissed the idea. Alone in enemy territory, she would need every advantage she had.

Yev’s story had added more pieces to the puzzle even as it provided more questions. His boss, the Neo smuggler known as
Akula
, the Shark, had been apprehended and forced to rejoin the Iron Guard he’d once served in. Much of his network had been rolled up, all in a frantic effort to capture one target: a young woman. By her description, she could very well be the mystery woman linked to Ultimate’s strange behavior in Chicago two weeks ago, a woman wanted by the US authorities as well as the Legion itself. Chastity had learned the hard way not to believe in coincidences. Her investigation had put her in the right place at the right time.

She had come to the Dominion prepared for a deep infiltration mission. Contacts developed over decades of clandestine work served her well. After getting off the train at the busy Kiev station, she made her way to a bakery owned and staffed by a Russian family which had long done far more than serve food. A casually-mentioned code word had gained her passage into a room behind the store, where she was provided with a secure space to work in.

Not many women served in the Galician Rifle Regiments, the elite units that guarded special facilities in the Dominion, but there were a few, and one of them was due to return from leave the next day. Chastity’s wrist-comp had hacked into the Dominion’s service records. Later that night she would pay a visit to the guard’s home. By the time somebody discovered the woman’s unconscious form, Chastity’s mission should be over.

Her new, self-appointed mission was simple: infiltrate the facility where the prisoner was held, try to learn as much as she could about her, as well as any information linking Daedalus Smith to the Dominion operation, and escape.

She was taking insane risks, operating with no Legion support and relying solely on her personal contacts, some of which involved the grandchildren of people she’d befriended over the decades. During her long and checkered career, Chastity had learned to trust her instincts and intuitions, however, and every fiber of her being urgently felt she needed to be inside that facility the next day.

Something major was at hand, and she had a role to play in it, even if that meant serving as a sacrificial pawn.

 

Beijing, Republic of China, March 28, 2013

“The Empire is finally mobilizing,” General Xu reported. “The First and Second Golden Horde Cavalry Corps are deploying to the Wall. Once the evolution is complete, they will be within striking distance of the capital. War is at hand.”

Nobody was surprised. The Republic of China had been preparing for this very moment within hours of the attack on Freedom Island. Even if the Empire had been wholly innocent, the troop movements within the ROC demanded an equivalent response. The two Chinas had been drawn inexorably towards this moment.

“The Empire still denies having any knowledge of or involvement in the attack on the Legion,” Artemis stated. She’d returned from Guangxi Province now that intelligence reports indicated the war was more likely to start near Beijing, as it had happened twice before.

“At this point, does it matter?” Xu replied. The Chinese Legionnaire had switched from his earlier aversion to any conflict with the Empire to a shocking eagerness to fight. Olivia suspected that the reversal reflected a change of mood in the Republic’s government. “The Emperor was merely biding his time before striking again. Even if this conflict is not of his making, we have an opportunity to put an end to this cancer in my country, once and for all.”

“Wars are chancy things, and their outcome is never certain,” Darkling said; the Korean Councilor’s face was hidden by her mask, but her eyes twinkled with anger. “The millions doomed to die in this war won’t thank you for the opportunity to perish in a conflict that is just as likely to end in yet another draw – or worse, in defeat – as in the victory you think is inevitable, General Xu.”

“Things have changed,” Xu insisted. “The Republic’s Ten Thousand Immortals have never been stronger. President Lao has authorized me to reveal to you that the Immortals now include twelve individuals rated at Type Three in the Parahuman Ability Scale. They represent a concentration of power of unparalleled and unprecedented levels.”

Artemis fought to hide her surprise. If Xu’s words were not an empty boast – the Republic of China had historically been given to exaggeration, if not outright fabrication – that was the largest grouping of Type Threes in history. The Legion itself had only seven of them; five, actually, now that John Clarke was on trial and Cassius Jones was a fleeing fugitive. There were perhaps another seven or eight in the US, and half a dozen in Europe. Her files on the Republic’s Immortals mentioned only four of its members were rated at that power level, which meant the other eight had to be recent additions. They would be young and inexperienced, unaccustomed to wielding power on those scales. The devastation they might inadvertently inflict was enormous.

Her husband was the first to break the silence. “Are they out of their ever-loving minds, Xu? You have recruited eight new Type Threes, and they have to be brand-spanking new, or we’d have heard about this before now, and you want to send them out into a war?”

“The heroic Immortals have all undergone basic training over the last year.”

“So that’s the reason for all those seismic events that have been happening all throughout China, isn’t it?” Larry Graham continued, a sneer in his face. “You know what kind of damage a Type Three can do, Xu, even after years of experience learning to minimize collateral damage. Twelve of them – you could end up depopulating the Dragon Empire!”

“I think the servants of the Republic will do their duty with as much diligence and restraint as we Legionnaires, actually,” General Xu said. “I understand the concerns with which the world will view the Republic’s power, but I have been assured such power will be wielded wisely, as befits the oldest continuing civilization in human history. The West’s inflated sense of superiority to the contrary, my people know what they’re doing.”

“For a Legion Council member, you sound a little too much like an ROC propagandist,” Larry snarled back.

“How dare you...?”

“Legionnaires!” Artemis broke in, and her commanding voice stilled the argument. “We don’t have time to bicker. If the ROC’s claims are true, then the balance of power favors us. That still doesn’t mean a war won’t unleash untold destruction upon both Chinas and all their neighbors.”

“Indeed,” Darkling said. “The Empire can deploy some six hundred Celestial Warriors, possibly more, and at least five Type Threes, not counting the Emperor himself. They can lay entire cities, entire countries, to waste, and even if we have, what, sixteen or twenty Type Threes available, they can’t be everywhere at once. We’re talking about megadeaths here.”

“Once things reach a certain point, there is no turning back,” Xu countered sourly. “The sooner we accept it, the sooner we can ready ourselves to deal with the inevitable.”

The inevitable. All their findings continued to point directly at the Empire as the source of the initial attack. Even the Dominion, a traditional ally of Imperial China in the United Nations, had voted in favor of the near-unanimous resolution condemning the Dragon Empire. Chastity Baal, one of the few dissenting voices, had gone AWOL when her opinions had been disregarded. Even if the rogue agent discovered the truth, it would likely be too late.

Larry’s posture sagged slightly, and Artemis knew her husband had surrendered as well. “All right, Xu,” he said tiredly. “If both Chinas are insistent in having it out, I guess we’ll all have to join the dance. If you don’t mind sharing the capabilities of the new Immortals, we and the UN contingent can make final dispositions. I take it you’re not planning on launching a pre-emptive strike, correct?”

“Of course not,” Xu replied. He used a kinder tone now. Why not? He’d gotten what he wanted. “The Republic would never start a war of aggression. The Empire will make the first move, as it always has. We’ll merely strike the final blow in this war.”

As the talk of war continued, Artemis made an unexpected decision. Like Chastity Baal, she would go off on her own. There was still one man who could stop all of this.

She had to speak to the Dragon Emperor.

 

BOOK: New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance
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