The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2) (5 page)

Vivian could tell she had done well, maybe even better than expected, and a cursory glance at Director Blanchard confirmed so.

“One last thing,” he said. “Going back to what you said about the Minotaur. Where is the Creux now?”

Vivian froze, completely unsure of what to say. In the few seconds that it took her to reply, she had to avoid looking at Director Blanchard, as Heath would immediately infer that there was no answer for his question. Instead, her eyes drifted towards the men and women behind cameras, jotting down their thoughts on notebooks. They had begun to murmur amongst each other, and she could only imagine what was being said.

In a moment of clarity, Vivian gave the safest answer she could think of, just as everyone in the room could sense her uncertainty: “That is information that wasn’t shared with me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” he said. “As I understand it’s not the first time a Creux was destroyed—even in the last few months. I’m sure there are disposal protocols, means of repurposing, maybe. I was just curious.”

Vivian nodded, relieved. “Yes, sir.”

He looked at her for another moment, and she wondered if her anxiety was as apparent as she feared. She looked at Director Blanchard, but the woman was gone; only General Adams stood in the shadows beyond the door, looking at her.

“Well, then. Thank you, Private First Class Poole,” said the man, getting up and shaking her hand. He suddenly tightened his grip. “Please give my regards to Sergeant Barnes and Lance Corporal Covington.”

He smiled, feeling sweat in Vivian’s hand.

She left the room, ignoring additional questions from the members of the press—questions she was under no obligation to answer.

Vivian left the people behind, and felt just a little safer when she joined General Adams in the dark of the hall.

“That was a good answer to his last question, Vivian,” said the General, pulling her by the arm, farther from the microphones and cameras. “Diplomatic, safe, smart, confidently said. But I think it won’t matter at all.”

“Ma’am?”

She pointed at the room where the interview had taken place, and saw Heath approach the men and women of Roue, ready to convey his impressions to them. “Heath’s only been playing with us. He knows everything, and I’m afraid someone in Zenith might be involved with him.”

ф

The light into which they climbed led to another land.

Besoe Nandi was the first to step out of the darkness, and witnessed a surreal kind of beauty. Almost immediately to their right he saw another oasis, by far the biggest one they had come upon yet. The enormous patch of green stretched far beyond what the Minotaur’s eye could see, hidden behind tall trees. The grass even climbed up the mountain range, and was lost under a layer of sparkling snow.

The taint of the Laani respected this capsule even as far as the sky—there was a hole in the thick mantle of grey clouds, and the colors beyond were more beautiful than anything the domes of Roue could paint.

He wanted to stand and admire the sight for hours, but the heavy stomps of Quantum Ares rushing to the oasis urged him to follow, and Jena did the same.

Ezra watched as Quantum Ares placed Erin’s Creux flat on its back. “Erin, can you hear me?” he said.

“I’m here, Garros. I just feel dizzy,” she said. “I’m coming out.”

“Yes, go. We’re safe,” said Garros, and as they always did, sat down on the ground, barely finding enough space to accomodate his Creux, and desynchronized.

Ezra did the same, placing Nandi a little farther away, closer to the mountain. Kat had programmed the Minotaur’s operating system to open the Creux’s Apse whenever Ezra desynchronized; it had been deemed the least risky method of ensuring the safety of the pilot.

You’re leaving again
, whispered Nandi.

Not for long.

He felt breath in his lungs, and saw the all too familiar dot of white light between his feet bringing him back to reality. In darkness, Ezra reached up and found the Egg’s hatch, which he slid open. The movement-tracking technology inside the Minotaur’s Apse kept the Egg stable, even if the Creux itself moved about, so it was easy to step out of the monster’s flesh and into the green, open world.

Ezra found Garros and Jena kneeling next to Erin. She was awake, but far from peaceful. She was shaking.

He looked at Garros, and could almost feel the fire burning in his eyes. “How is she?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, and looked up at him. “Something like this happened before, when I was first testing manned synchronization. I got hit once, during the test, and it’s like the Egg stopped sending signals to Atlas. I could see and hear you, but I couldn’t move. I know how to fix it, but I’d like to rest a little first.”

“At least you were safe,” said Jena.

“No, she wasn’t. We aren’t. The Creux isn’t as safe as you seem to think—it can . . . we can get
hurt
,” said Garros, stammering. Ezra had never heard anger and fear so clearly in his voice. “
She
could’ve been hurt!”

“I’m fine,” protested Erin.

“
This
time, Erin,” he said.

“Man, Garros,
she’s okay
!” Ezra said, and immediately knew it had been a mistake.

“And you, come here. Listen to me,” said the enormous man, who suddenly looked twice as large as he stared him down with reddened eyes. “If I tell you to do something. If I tell you
not
to do something, you will. Those were
tunnels
, Blanchard. Either one of us could’ve brought the whole goddamn thing down,
and then what
?”

“But we didn’t!” Ezra argued, and all the resentment and anger he had held inside began to boil in his chest. “You wanted us to stay behind and do nothing while those things could’ve killed Erin!”

“That is not what I said, stupid. I said we had to be
careful
.”

“Careful could’ve gotten Erin
killed
! Look, you didn’t see what I saw in Zenith! At least
I
don’t want to see someone else die!”

“You better watch your mouth.”

Suddenly it was like he was out of his body, not unlike piloting Nandi. Ezra tried to shove Garros away, but couldn’t. He heard Jena cry out, telling them to stop their fight, but something so asymmetrical could not be called a fight. Garros had gotten hold of Ezra’s wrists, and controlling someone so much weaker was far too easy.

The desperation and anger grew when he saw how powerless he was against Garros. Ignoring pain in his shoulders, Ezra whipped his arms down and freed his right hand from the man’s grip.

He balled it to a fist and took a swing. His knuckles hurt when they connected with Garros’ jaw, nudging his head to the side.

Ezra froze, suddenly all too aware of his mistake.

Garros looked at him and shook his head.

He didn’t even see Garros’ arm move, only heard a crack on the left side of his face, and then everything was dark.

Chapter 3

A Subtle Infection

Ezra woke up
to the sound of thunder and rain. There was crispness to the air, something cold and comfortable that for one moment allowed him to forget almost everything else.

But not the intense headache, or the pain on his cheekbone. That was still there.

He sat up from the wet grass. The fight—if it could even be called that—had taken place next to Phoenix Atlas’ head, but now he found himself sitting next to Nandi’s leg. An insulation blanket covered him from his chest to his feet; he had been moved and covered while still unconscious.

It was a slight relief to see that at least the others had a little respect left for him. The sensations of guilt and anxiety were not unlike the few times he had drank too much, only to regret some of his actions the day following. Last time that happened, one of those actions had remained with him, even to that day, in the shape of a nose ring. It had been a small token given to him by a man whose life had been taken, and with his death, the once purely aesthetic symbol had become something far more important.

He felt lightheaded when he finally got up, and had to lean against Nandi’s plates of armor to maintain his balance. His head hurt and it was full of regret, but something made him feel
clean
. Was it the rain?

Maybe it was the view.

Ezra grabbed the insulation blanket normally used to line the inside of a Creux’s Apse and, rolled, tossed it inside Nandi’s Apse. He could almost hear the Minotaur’s whisper coming from inside. Could it really just be the energy in its core?

Ignoring the thoughts that made him feel even more alone, Ezra walked up the hill, trying to drink the rain that fell on the oasis almost like dust—in miniature particles. He climbed backward so he wouldn’t miss the view: there was something beautiful in the contrast before his eyes.

To his left there was the giant green patch, covered in trees, a large body of water narrowing into a river that disappeared into the mountain. The whole thing was bathed in the light of a few golden rays that managed to pierce the thick, gray clouds.

And to his right, only dead lands: cracked earth and the stench of death—reminders left by the creatures that caused the devastation. Those strange spires and stone arches, maybe carved by some kind of erosion he couldn’t really understand, further separated what he was seeing from the idea he had of what the planet used to be. Five hundred years of alien occupation had made a whole other world out of it.

He sat down on the wet grass and looked at the landscape. In this solitude, nothing really made sense. Ezra could barely understand the chain of events that had placed a largely unremarkable person like himself there, where no human had set foot in centuries.

Ezra clenched his jaw and began to cry, and he wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t out of pain, and it certainly wasn’t out of joy; it was like his body just needed to cleanse itself of certain bad energies, and seeing the world literally torn in two before him, unsure of which of these two palettes of color he would see cover the world in the end—if he even saw the end at all—worked them all out.

It was liberating and he felt no shame in it, until he discovered that he was not alone.

“Mind if I join you?” said Garros, who was standing behind him. “I feel like we should probably talk.”

Ezra wiped his eyes and didn’t say anything. Garros sat down a few feet down the hill, so they would see eye to eye.

“I was just over there, enjoying the view. Something about it caught my eye—like, how strange it feels to see so much green at once. None of the others were big like this one, were they? I wonder what’s up with them.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ezra.

“I mean why do they exist, you know? By all accounts it doesn’t make any sense. The virus, the Laani, all these alien things respect these spots. Erin and I saw one a few days ago, just standing outside the oasis, afraid to come any closer even if it looked like it wanted to. And even underground, did you notice? The sudden turns the Tunnelers made—they were avoiding this area even on a subterranean level. And there are so many; there’s another one over there, and way over there.” He pointed toward the distance. “Guess we didn’t have a good vantage point of the land before. I’ll check Erin’s route; maybe we can see a trace of Kerek from here, if we climb a bit more. I don’t think it’s that far away now.”

“I hope so,” Ezra said. “I’m tired of all this.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

Having nothing to say, the wind spoke for Ezra. He only looked down at Garros.

“How’s your face?” the man asked. Ezra noticed a red patch on the side of Garros’ jaw. Garros brought his hand up to the tender skin, and smiled even if it appeared to sting to the touch. “This was your work, by the way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah. That was a terrible way for me to react, but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. You took a good swing, too. You are deceptively strong,” he said and laughed. “Though I remember you knocking Dr. Yuri down on his ass. That was pretty great.”

“I don’t,” said Ezra. He had been told that upon awakening from the fugue that led to The Shattering, his first reaction had been to take a swing at Dr. Yuri, whom he mistakenly recognized as the cause of all his pain—an enemy. He didn’t remember any of that, and he was glad.

“Poor guy,” said Garros and sighed, giving a moment of silence to the memory of Dr. Yuri, of whom they had not really talked since his death.

The sound of rainfall was the dead man’s only elegy.

“I never got along with him, but . . . he had the right ideas,” Garros said. “At least he wanted to save us, and not just let us . . .
die
. It’s hard to believe there are some folks who would let all of humanity go so easily.”

“I’m sorry about what I said, by the way,” said Ezra. “I know you care about Erin.”

“Of course I do. I love her,” he said. Ezra didn’t remember him ever admitting to that particular feeling; he had always thought the nature of their relationship was not very profound. When he took a deep breath, he shivered, and not because of the cold. “And I care about the others in Zenith. Maybe I just don’t want to believe what you said happened when you left—about Tessa, and Barnes . . . and Kat.”