Crossroads of Fate (Cadicle #5): An Epic Space Opera Series (19 page)

“Why destroy a single planet when I can also bring you down in the process? The beacon virus was just a distraction to lure your wife into the open—whom else could you trust to carry out such a repair? Our educated guess that you would send her was correct. Targeting her was the perfect opportunity for Cambion’s destruction to carry so much more impact.”

Think! There has to be a way out of this.
“How’s that?”

“By making it your fault.”

Wil’s heart dropped.  “You’re insane.”

“Hardly. You see, the Bakzen have been at war with the TSS for long enough to anticipate your tactics. I know exactly how long it would take for you to send reinforcements to mitigate our assault, and that window will now close in less than two minutes. You can notify the TSS about the planned attack now, but your wife will die. However, if you wait out those two minutes, your wife will live—but you will need to bear the weight of knowing you could have prevented four billion deaths, if only you weren’t so weak and selfish.”

Fok!
Sudden rage flushed Wil’s face.
They must have civilian drones. Tek knows the planet is already his. This is just a game to him—making me consciously choose not to send help.
However, realizing Tek’s intent didn’t change that Saera was still in immediate danger. “What assurance do I have that you won’t kill her anyway, as soon as the time is up?”

“Nothing other than my word. However, her death under those circumstances would be counterproductive. Killing her then would just make you angry, if I break our deal. It’s guilt that will destroy you, and her living is what will make it real for you.”

“I have no reason to trust you.”
Stars! There might be nothing I can do for Cambion now, but Saera… I can’t lose her.

“Maybe not, but if you choose Cambion, she will surely die. In choosing her, there is at least a chance that I will honor my word, and that she might live. What is that chance worth to you?”

Everything, but…
Wil could barely breathe.
He has me, and he knows it. Fok!
“I won’t negotiate with you.”

“Stop pretending you don’t care. You have a choice to make! Either lose the person closest to you, leaving you—and the TSS, by extension—distracted and compromised. Or, save your wife, and let your guilt eat away at you until you can no longer look in her loving eyes and see anything but the bartering pawn she has become—a reminder of your choice to let all those innocents die.”

“I’m not that easy to manipulate.”

“Oh, but you are. I can already see you breaking.”

Wil turned away from the viewscreen.
It’s an impossible choice. Cambion may already be lost, but it’s still my call to not even try. How can I choose between the one person who is my world, or the entire population of a planet?

His heart pounded in his ears as the seconds ticked on.

Wil paced the room.
Fok! What do I do?
He couldn’t surrender an entire planet, especially not one so populated. Compounding the staggering loss of life would be the resource loss—a strategic position as well as some of the critical remaining rations the TSS would need to make it through the coming battles. Even if the Bakzen were bringing down defenses from the inside, TSS intervention now could help mitigate those losses. To take no action at all would result in a devastating setback.

But then there was Saera…
What will keep me going if I don’t have her?
Nothing, Wil realized. To lose her would destroy him, and if the TSS’ success hinged on him, self-preservation was by necessity his top priority. His eyes stung, but he kept his face composed.
I’ll have to live with this decision forever.

“Time’s up.”

The words were knives driven straight into his heart and gut.

“Interesting choice.” Tek’s surprise was audible.

Wil glared back. “Let her go.”

Tek waved his hand.

On the desktop, Wil saw the two enemy ships disappear. He let out the breath he’d been holding. “You’ll pay for this.”

“I live with no regrets. A true leader will do anything for his people.” Before Wil could reply, the call terminated.

Wil sat in shocked silence.
Did that just happen?

Warning lights flashed.
Shite!
He ran back into the Command Center, already knowing the devastating news to come.

“Emergency signal from Cambion!” Michael reported when Wil entered.

You have to play dumb.
“What’s the status?”

“They’re under Bakzen attack. The planetary shield is dropping.” Michael shook his head, examining the reports on the screen. “Does this have anything to do with that mystery call?”

Do they know?
Wil concocted a lie, “It was a secure communication from Taelis—some vague intel about a Bakzen attack. This must be it.”

Michael nodded, apparently satisfied with the response.

Wil could barely breathe.
I did this. They’re all going to die because of me.
“Planetary defenses?”

“It looks like an all-out assault. The Bakzen have them completely out-gunned,” Ian replied. “We’ll lose Cambion without reinforcements.”

It was lost before the first report.
“Have the Bakzen already taken out the shield?”

“Two of the generators are offline. It’ll fully collapse within the next 30 seconds,” Ian stated.

“Then it’s already too late. There’s nothing we can do.” Wil cast his gaze down, unable to witness the digital representation of the slaughter onscreen.
All those deaths are on my hands…

The crew looked appalled. “We can’t just abandon them!” Curtis cried.

Wil shook his head. “There won’t be anything left by the time any reinforcements arrive.” The knives twisted in his stomach.

“We have to do
something
.”

I could have, but I didn’t.
“We’ll just lose more people and ships. We need to conserve the limited resources we have. It’s a Bakzen world now.”
Stars! I chose to let this happen…

The crew continued to watch, even as they realized it was a futile fight.

Michael reviewed the reports on his console and main viewscreen. “A few ships are trying to jump out, but the Bakzen are hunting them down.”

“Stars! They’re bombing the planet’s surface,” Ian murmured.

“Four billion people…” Ethan breathed. “Isn’t Tom from Cambion?”

Wil nodded.
I just killed one of my best friend’s families.
“There’s nothing we can do.” Numbness began to replace the twisting blades in his stomach.

The crew fell silent as the remaining friendly icons on the viewscreen extinguished.

The numbness in Wil crept upward in his chest as emotional pain radiated from the crew surrounding him. It was too much. “Stay put. We proceed with the attack in the morning.”
You have to pull yourself together.
“I’ll be in the Strategy Room until Saera’s onboard.”

Wil barely held his composure until he was in the privacy of the conference room. The moment the door was closed, he dropped to his knees and sobbed. He held nothing back, trying to expel his guilt for making such a selfish decision.
I thought losing her would break me. Will I be able to recover from this, either?

He remained on his knees and elbows for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, the sobs subsided, replaced by numbness in his core. It was the only way to cope—to purge his emotions. He wouldn’t have to face his guilt that way, but he would also lose the love that motivated him to keep going through the worst moments.

“Where are you?”
he called out to Saera. He needed her, more than he’d ever needed anything.

“About to dock,”
she replied. He could sense her, so close.

Wil reached up to wipe his face. He pulled out his tinted glasses from his pocket to hide his eyes that must surely still be red. With a deep breath, he left the Strategy Room and headed for the hangar below.

After the brief lift ride, he darted down the hall to the hangar. When the door opened, Saera’s transport ship was powering down. She was safe.

The door in the side of the ship opened with a hiss, and Saera hopped out.

Wil’s heart leaped when he saw her.
There’s still some of me left… for now.
He needed to feel her again before he felt nothing at all.

He rushed to her, cupping her face with his hand. With his arms wrapped around her, he pulled her into a passionate kiss—channeling everything that remained of himself into one more intimate moment while he could still feel their connection. She kissed him back for an instant, then broke away.

“Not
here
.” She glanced at the confused technicians waiting nearby.

Wil’s sense of self was drifting away like sand through his fingers. “I can’t wait.” He brought his lips back to hers, desperate to keep the fading ember alive.

“Are you okay?”
Saera asked in his mind, but he shut her out—lest she glimpse the dark secret he now harbored. He had given them up for her… but would she understand? It wasn’t a risk he could take. She was alive and all he wanted was to be with her one more time before he was revealed as the vicious, cold monster he’d always known himself to be.

He pressed her against the hull of the ship, lust staving off the cold slowly consuming him from within. Saera responded to his touch, a low moan of desire escaping her lips.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wil saw the technicians silently retreat from the hangar. They were now alone.

With the assurance of relative privacy, Wil released Saera from the shuttle to strip off his jacket. He fanned it out on the floor and embraced Saera once more. “I love you,” he murmured into her ear, the words carrying more meaning in that moment than she might ever know.

They sank on to the jacket, entwined in passion. Wil savored every detail, imprinting her in his mind. Even if he could never feel such love again, he would at least have that one last memory.

“Fok, what happened?” Taelis paced across Banks’ viewscreen, more openly distraught than Banks had ever seen him.

“You’ve said yourself that loss is inevitable,” Banks replied, hearing the hollowness in his own words.
This wasn’t just a remote colony. Cambion was a major world.

“All those people…” Taelis massaged his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “We’ve never had a loss on that scale.”

“I can’t even fully grasp it.” Losing tens of thousands of people in a single Bakzen attack had unfortunately become a fact of the war, but to have billions of lives extinguished in a matter of minutes was too atrocious to fathom. Worlds like Cambion were protected by redundant shields and enough artillery to put up a substantial fight. Since the planetary shield had been brought down from the inside, that meant the Priesthood hadn’t deployed the counteragent to the neurotoxin in time—if that was ever even their intention. Regardless, the Bakzen had demonstrated that they were capable of executing a large-scale attack with enough swiftness and precision that no world was safe.

The other High Commander gathered himself. “There’s nothing we can do about their deaths now. The immediate concern is maintaining supply distribution to the frontlines. We’re at a critical juncture.”

“I know,” Banks agreed, turning his focus to business.
Stars! When did we become so cold?
“I already reached out to some civilian contacts. A shipment will be arriving to the Prisaris shipyard in the morning. We can use the facility as a new staging ground.”

Taelis nodded. “That’ll help, thank you. But it doesn’t change how this attack unfolded. Wil didn’t even send the fleet to assist.”

“What could more ships have possibly done by that point? The world was lost within the first minute of the attack.”

“Not all of its inhabitants,” Taelis protested.

“It was a calculated decision. We’ve always coached Wil to look toward long-term outcomes. Losing ships in a counterattack wouldn’t have increased our ultimate position.”

“That’s true,” Taelis conceded, “but this isn’t the first time he’s shown such disregard for casualties. In his CR exam—”

Banks scoffed. “Do you really want to question Wil’s judgement now? We gave him a job to do, and he’s doing it. I never expected everything to be all clean and pretty. The fact is, we molded someone to commit genocide. We can’t expect there won’t be any other casualties along the way.”

“But a whole planet!”

“We’re in no position to question him. We lost that right when we made him the center of all our plans.”

Taelis paused. “I never thought we’d have to worry about him coming through for us.”

“I have no concerns about that,” Banks countered. “He’ll find a way—but, I have no illusions about it being a way we like. We’ve forced one person to make all of those tough decisions on our behalf, so we have to live with the consequences. I have no doubt that he will always do what is best in the moment and will drive us toward victory in the war. We’ll pick up the shattered pieces once the fighting is over.”

After a moment of reflection, Taelis nodded. “You’re right. All we can do for now is stand back and let Wil do what we’ve asked.”

“I didn’t anticipate how much this war would change me,” Banks murmured. “Weighing the worth of lives, treating people like resources—it’s the very way of thinking I always tried to avoid.”

“We change so that others can maintain their innocence. It’s the burden of our station.”

The sacrifices hidden in shadow…
Banks bobbed his head with grim determination. “At least it will be over soon.”

“I used to think that would be a day of cheers and fanfare. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Either way, we’ll finally be able to rest easy,” Banks said.

“That will be a good day.”

*       *       *

Tom wiped his eyes only to find that the tears had already dried.
I can’t believe they’re gone…

The news about Cambion’s capture seemed too surreal to be true. Such a large world with so many defenses—it was too much to have been wiped out in a matter of minutes. Though ten percent of the population had managed to flee after the initial assault, Tom’s uncle was the only surviving member of his family. The rest had died in the initial firebombing, or—he couldn’t bring himself to think about the alternatives.

It had been years since he’d seen his family in person. Occasional video chats had done little to make up for the years apart. There were so many things he wished he’d been able to tell his parents, jokes he’d wanted to tell in good-natured teasing with his little sister, all the adventures he’d never get to have with his childhood friends. While the Primus Elites had become his family away from home, Tom had always taken comfort in knowing that there were others loving him from afar. Now, those around him were all he had left.

After a night to let the reality of his loss sink in, Tom found that his initial grief had transformed into an inner fury. The Bakzen had taken those that held a special place in his heart. His hands clenched into fists, his cheeks flushed and eyes narrow. Justice would be served.

The door to his cabin on the Conquest hissed open. Sander popped his head in. “How are you holding up?”

Tom shrugged, releasing his fists.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” his friend murmured for the dozenth time.

“There’s nothing we can do now but beat the Bakzen to a pulp. They’ll foking pay for this.”

Sander nodded, grim. “Are you sure you’re up for flying today?”

“There’s nothing you could do to keep me out of battle now.”

“All right.” Sander headed for the door. “Let’s go get some revenge.”

*       *       *

A simulated sunrise woke Wil in his quarters on the Conquest. Next to him, Saera stirred.

He inched away.
I can’t be near her. She’ll know what I did… Know how truly terrible I am.

His actions may have been to save her, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d allowed billions of people to die due to his decision. That wasn’t forgivable, and it certainly didn’t make him worthy of her love.

Besides, she couldn’t be an anchor and confidant anymore. He wouldn’t be able to open himself to her like he always did before—like he needed to be able to do with anyone in that role. There had never been any secrets or barriers between them, but now he’d have to remain guarded at all times. The longer she stayed with him, the more suspicious she would become of what secret he was keeping.

Tek was right—this was how to destroy me.
His heart raced with panic.
The guilt will eat away…
No, he couldn’t let the Bakzen get into his head. There had to be a way to block it out, to maintain focus. Maybe, with some time, he could wall off all the memories that implicated him in Cambion’s destruction. Except, he needed an immediate solution.

He watched Saera’s chest rise and fall in her peaceful sleep.
I can’t possibly explain any of this.
They were too close for him to only partially pull away—to gain the distance he’d need to erect a fortress around his secret. He could hide it from the others for the interim, perhaps, but not from her. He’d never be able to make the mental barrier secure if she was around to serve as a constant reminder of what he’d done, creating cracks in the walls that would already be so difficult to construct. Moreover, if she stayed with him, she’d eventually find out how he traded her life for so many others and would never forgive him for making her guilty by extension. 

Just a little time apart—until I can come to terms.
Sending her away was a risk, but he saw no other choice. Wil expected more heartache with the decision, but the numbness that had been spreading through him since the previous night had dulled his senses.

Wil watched her sleep for just a moment more, memorizing the peacefulness of her sleeping face. He knew he was about to unintentionally hurt her, and she wouldn’t understand. Maybe, one day, he could make things right again, but only cold realities were in his near future.

Saera blinked and stretched her arms above her head. “Hey, you’re awake.”

“Hi.” He couldn’t bring himself to wish her good morning, not with what was coming next.

She sat up in bed. “How’d you sleep?”

“Well enough,” he lied. There was no sense prolonging the inevitable. “Saera, you should go back to Headquarters.”

Saera laughed off the statement, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s too early to mess with me.”

“I’m serious.”

Her face dropped. “Wil, that’s crazy. In all the training, I’ve always been here with you.”

I can’t let her into my mind again. Not until the walls are secure.
“We’ll find a way to adjust without you.”

She shook her head. “Right before an attack? No way.”

“I can’t have you here right now,” Wil pleaded.

Saera pulled the sheet up to her chin, brow knit. “Why? Did I do something…?”

“No.” Wil shook his head. “Stars, Saera… Please, just wait at home where it’s safe.”

“Are you afraid I’ll get hurt? Is that it?”

“No. Yes…” Wil clutched his head. The final dying moments of Cambion replayed within Saera’s pupils. “You can’t be here.”

“Wil—” she tried to reach out to him.

He clamored out of the bed, unable to face her. “Wait here. You’ll transport back to Headquarters after the skirmish.” Blocking out her continued protests, Wil finished dressing and then quickly slipped out the door. A day before, he would have shared her heartbreak over the thought of being separated. Now, there was nothing left of himself to lose.

*       *       *

Saera sat in stunned silence until well after Wil had gone.
Sending me back to Headquarters?
He hadn’t even looked her in the eyes as he said it.

Based on their reunion the previous night, it seemed impossible for him to have changed his attitude so suddenly. There was never any lack of passion in their relationship, but she had somehow felt even closer to him over that night together. At the time, she’d thought it was making up for their separation while she tended to the navigation coding. In retrospect, maybe it was something far darker.

Was he saying goodbye?

That didn’t make any sense. They were partners. Through all the challenges over the years, their bond had never wavered. She was mystified about what could have possibly happened within the span of three days to alter their relationship.

There was no way she’d go that easily. If he was that distressed, it was all the more reason for her to be around. She had pledged to be a supportive partner, and whatever was wrong, it was her duty to help him.

*       *       *

Michael braced against the chair across from his podium in the Command Center to stretch, trying to loosen up in advance of the hours he was about to spend in telekinetic communication. As he finished up his final series of stretches, Wil walked in—strangely, alone.

“Did Saera decide to take an extra-long shower this morning?” Michael joked.

“She won’t be stationed on the Conquest anymore,” Wil replied, his voice flat.

“Wh—”

“It’s not up for discussion,” Wil cut him off.

Even as others entered the Command Center, Wil remained equally reticent about Saera’s sudden absence. Michael suppressed his concern for the sake of their battle coordination, but deep down he knew something was seriously wrong.

“Get ready,” Wil instructed.

Michael sensed the beginning of simultaneous observation. “Without Saera, how will you remain anchored?” he asked.

“The ship is enough,” Wil shot back, bite in the words.

“What’s wrong?”
Michael asked him privately.

Without responding, Wil closed his mind to future questions.

Something was definitely wrong—and their operations were far too delicate for anyone to be off their game, especially their leader.
“We should postpone the fight,”
Michael said to Ian, Ethan, and Curtis.

“Did something happen with Wil and Saera?”
Ethan asked.

“He won’t tell me, but clearly there’s an issue.”
Michael ended the private conversation. “Wil, maybe we should rethink the attack this morning.”

“We proceed as planned,” Wil replied.

“But—”

“But nothing,” Wil cut him off. “That’s an order.” He grabbed his handholds and began slipping into a state of simultaneous observation.

I guess I’ll have to be his backup, then.
Michael hurriedly followed Wil, reaching out for him.

Rather than the normal openness, Michael met only a wall around Wil’s consciousness. He tried to grasp on, but there was no way to maintain his hold.
“Wil, wait!”
he begged. Without a telepathic tether other than the ship, there was no telling if Wil would be able to find his way back to his physical self.

Wil didn’t listen, drifting further and further until Michael barely had him in sight.