Phoenix Rising (Book Two of The Icarus Trilogy) (58 page)

“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked, holding his hand to his dying friend’s face.  He could feel the scratchiness of the giant’s beard and wondered how it would have looked all grown out.  He would never know, now.

“Do you ….. do you remember what I said?  Do you remember how I justified myself?”  Feldman asked, his consciousness starting to fade.  He could no longer feel the warmth from Ryan’s fingers.  The giant didn’t have much time and he didn’t want his friend to grieve needlessly.

“You shout your character out….”Ryan said, unable to finish the statement, but Feldman could help him with that.

“And I wanted to hear an echo.”

“I failed you,” Ryan said, closing his eyes and bringing up the giant’s right hand and holding it in his much smaller hand.

“No, Ryan.  I heard the echo. 
You
are the echo.  I can die and know I did everything I could,” Feldman said, smiling slightly at his friend, whose face was covered in tears.

“God, Feldman…..I don’t know how I’m going to do this.  I can’t be this messiah they’re talking about.  I need you,” Ryan said, pleading with his friend, doing his best to deny reality.  Feldman breathed in deeply one last time, ignoring the blood filling his mouth.

“No, Ryan.  You really don’t.  Not anymore,” Feldman said, letting his eyes close.  He hoped his friend would find happiness like what he had found; he hoped that Ryan would make his peace with the universe.  But that was no longer his concern.  Feldman laid his head back and breathed out one last time.  There was no breath to answer it.

The messiah figure quietly sobbed as he held the giant’s head on his lap.  He didn’t want to let the man go, not yet.  Feldman had done so much, sacrificed so much, for this revolution.  And now he was gone.  No matter what the giant said, Jenkins knew that he had failed his friend.

In his misery, he told himself that he would never fail him again.  He would never stray from the path of righteousness.  Feldman said that Ryan had been his echo, but that wasn’t enough for Jenkins.  The giant deserved more than him.  Ryan would not let the universe forget such a great man so easily.  Ryan Jenkins would live on for him.  He would live to create his own echoes.

And in such a way there would be a chorus to answer Gregory Feldman.

-

Goldstein walked to the hallway leading to the North Entrance and found Jenkins still sitting there with the giant’s head on his lap.  The merchant had hoped for different, but he wasn’t exactly surprised.  The sword was a fool’s weapon when life was on the line.

The merchant walked up to the messiah figure and crouched down beside him.  Jenkins’ face was vacant, as if he had experienced far too much for one lifetime.  Goldstein sighed as he realized that the boy had experienced enough for plenty of lifetimes.  The middle-aged revolutionary reached out his hand and touched the Crow’s shoulder.  The young man looked away from his friend and into the eyes of his compatriot.  Goldstein was shocked at what he saw; he had never seen the kind of resolve that was now staring back at him.

“We finished off the rest of the EOSF detachment at the mess hall.  Didn’t lose anybody; Abrams got lucky with her last grenade and Carver and Templeton were able to mop them up.  We…. Well, we won,” Goldstein said, looking down at his dead comrade and wondering how Jenkins was going to react to the news.

“It’s over?” Jenkins asked, his voice quiet but entirely audible in the empty hallway.  Goldstein nodded at that, but was surprised when the boy lifted his friend’s head off of his lap, set it down on the ground and then crossed the man’s arms over his torso.  Then he got up slowly and turned before setting down the hallway.  The merchant watched as the messiah figure kicked open the door and walked into the light of Eris.

When Goldstein followed the boy out the door, he saw that Jenkins was just standing there.  The merchant guessed that the Crow would have quite a few issues after today, but he stayed silent.  He knew that Jenkins was thinking through the events of the day; Zachary knew that he had no place in the messiah figure’s thoughts.

Jenkins welcomed the silence, but he almost didn’t even notice the merchant’s presence.  He was more concerned with the bombardment of guilt and sorrow attacking him from every angle.  They might have won, but this was the perfect example of a Pyrrhic Victory.  Half of his friends were dead, some were wounded.  Some Jenkins didn’t even know about.  He wondered if it was all worth it.

His thoughts fell back to his clone; the man he had replaced and the brother he had lost.  Ryan knew he had failed the man.  He might have been artificially created, but that Jenkins was still a real person.  And he had died in a battle for the safety of his replacement.  Jenkins couldn’t think of anything more cruel.

The messiah figure was standing there when he felt the wind rustling about.  It broke him out of his thoughts and soon enough Ryan was looking skyward.  Whatever hope he had fell away, vanishing with the wind, as the young Crow could see another EOSF shuttle about to land in the wreckage surrounding the Crows’ barracks.  Jenkins thought it almost humorous.  Every time freedom seemed close at hand someone else came to snatch it away.

“Zach, why can’t we win?” he asked in his sadness.  Jenkins couldn’t fight anymore.  Whatever enemy came to meet him would meet no resistance.  His resolve had been replaced by his guilt at that moment.

“Hate to disappoint you, kid, but it seems like we did.  That ain’t from the EOSF.  That’s one of ours,” Goldstein said behind him.  Jenkins turned to the merchant, who was wearing a grim smile on his face.

“Say what you want, Ryan; feel what you want.  But this is what they were fighting for.  This is what our friends died for.  That,” Goldstein said as he pointed towards the sleek craft that was about to land in the nearby clearing.

“That’s our ride out of here.”

Darren Christiansen was looking at his mentor, wondering if there would be any violent outburst from the man.  The two of them had been watching the satellite surveillance of the Crows’ barracks, which was on a thirty minute video delay.  What they had seen had astonished Darren, but he knew that his reaction didn’t matter.  He just wondered what Jasper Montgomery, the most powerful man in the solar system, would do.

The old man sat in his chair with his eyes closed.  Jasper had not considered the slave soldiers capable of such a feat; the EOSF were highly trained soldiers and the Crows had already been weakened by the assault from the Hammerheads.  To even consider that the revolutionaries would come out on top was absolutely absurd.

But somehow it had happened.

Jasper Montgomery leaned forward in his chair before standing up slowly, feeling his age whispering along his spine.  As he rose to his full height, the CEO of War World Entertainment finally opened his eyes.  He knew what he had to do.

Darren watched as his mentor extended his aged finger and started tapping through menus on the display in front of him.  The young executive wondered what the CEO was up to, but had a difficult time finding the right words, possibly for the first time in his life.  The young man rose out of his seat, but as soon as he straightened his back he noticed that Jasper Montgomery had stopped tapping at the display.  The old executive was glaring hard at Darren, fury burning through his grey eyes.  If Darren had been any less of a man, he might have actually been killed by the eye contact.

“This was a war of ideals, you said, Mr. Christiansen,” Jasper said coolly.  The young executive gulped down air before grabbing at his empty glass of whiskey; he needed something to grab onto.

“It still is, Jasper.  They just happened to win the battle.  It still comes down to beating the enemy’s morale and not killing their troo-” Darren said, doing what he could to salvage his argument, but the puppet master grunted loudly, stopping the young executive mid-speech.

“I will not deign to consider them my enemy, Mr. Christiansen.  They are insects, every one, and we will exterminate them accordingly,” the old man said before resuming his tapping on the computer display.  The young executive wondered what the head of the Trade Union was doing on the computer, but he knew he had more important things to focus on.  He didn’t want to end up dead or, worse, in the mail room.

“The Crows got lucky, Jasper,” Christiansen said, regaining his confidence and the strength in his voice.  It was the only way to argue with the puppet master.  “We have to remember that they were one of the best teams, and it seems like they had a few extra moles from the resistance already present.  They can still be beaten, even if they are taken from Eris.”  The young executive wanted Jasper to recognize the point, but the old man continued looking at his computer display, almost ignoring the younger man.

“Jasper, will you listen to me?  This isn’t over.  And what, may I ask, are you doing with that computer?” Darren asked, his voice finally giving into his annoyance.  He was not used to being ignored, even if it was the head of the Trade Union performing the action.  His mentor narrowed his eyes before looking back across the desk.  Darren could tell that the old man was still furious at the way Christiansen had convinced the puppet master to send another team to fight his own battles, but this was a new kind of anger.

“You’re right, Darren.  This isn’t over.  But it soon will be.  I’m taking care of the mistake that
you
are responsible for,” Jasper said before sighing and tapping the computer one last time.  After a moment the old man settled himself back into his chair and then propped up his head with the extended fingers of his left hand.

“What are you talking about?” Darren asked.  He wondered if the old man had sent another detachment of EOSF officers to intercept the revolutionaries’ shuttle, but he knew there was an entire system’s worth of possibilities to consider.  It was better just to ask directly.

“Are you aware of the security measures that went into Eris’ construction?” Jasper asked, the rage slipping away only to be replaced the icy, malicious stare that the CEO was known for.  Darren couldn’t help but feel anxiety at the change in atmosphere.

“I have to admit that I’m not, Jasper,” Christiansen said before walking up to the edge of the rich, wooden desk.  The puppet master gave him a soft smile, but the cold glare continued.

“The asteroid was always meant for slave soldiers and entertainment.  It was really quite considerate of the architects to realize that a few million soldiers with weapons could be troublesome, even if they were kept under strict control.  The livestock do go mad, from time to time,” Jasper Montgomery said before breaking his stare with a long blink.  Darren didn’t notice, but he forgot to breathe in the moments that the puppet master’s eyes were closed.  When they opened the young executive was finally able to take another breath.

“Since they couldn’t have absolute control over human nature, the architects designed a fail-safe.  If things were to get hostile, a few systems were in place to pacify the…. simple people of Eris.  Poisonous gas components were strewn about the interior of the asteroid and with a few simple commands we were given the keys to control, Darren,” Montgomery said before turning in his seat and looking at the miniature planet devoted to war.

“What do you mean?” Christiansen said, unable to comprehend the sheer scale of what Jasper had begun.

“Power, my young friend.  Within a few moments that rebellious little planet will be completely engulfed in poisonous gas.  There will be no revolution because there will be no revolutionaries, Mr. Christiansen.  This is no longer the war of ideals you had proposed.  This is just pest control,” the head of the Trade Union said as he continued to stare into the sky.  The puppet master gave a soft smile as he considered his ruthless act.

Darren had to use his hands to support himself on the expensive desk in front of him.  Breathing became difficult and the young executive was swamped in emotions and feelings that he had thought he had destroyed years ago.  Pity, sorrow, and, most importantly, empathy started to filter into his consciousness.  He lifted his head and gazed at his mentor, who was maliciously smiling as he looked through the massive window.

“Jasper…” the young executive began, fully understanding the scope of this operation.  “There aren’t just rebels up there.  Half that planet is filled with our employees; innocent men and women who were enjoying a career with War World Entertainment.  If you let that gas out of the reserves then you’re going to kill them, too,” Darren said, hoping that Jasper was still just considering the idea.

The old executive turned in his chair to look at his student.  The smile had dropped from his face, but Darren felt a chill as those pale, grey eyes pierced through him.  Christiansen finally felt like he knew what true evil was like; he finally knew what Jasper had been talking about.

“I had already considered that, my young friend.  Collateral damage, that’s all,” he said as he turned his chair back to look at the small planet in front of him.  Already he could see that a dark yellow had started to tint the clouds surrounding the collection of rocks and trash.  “They weren’t important, anyway.  This way we won’t have to fight any wars; we’ll just have to tell the public that we have made their worlds a little safer.  I understand if you need some time to think this over.”  Darren followed the puppet master’s gaze up to the small planet and felt his heart sink.  His mouth fell open and it became impossible to maintain the ruse anymore; he was not the same executive who had been in the office just a few minutes before.

“You….you already …..started….”

“Yes, Mr. Christiansen.  But I have also ended it.”

-

Jenkins looked at the two of his friends and wondered if he would ever get past the guilt of it.  The two of them seemed so odd laying side by side, the boy soldier with the gentle giant, but Jenkins knew that it was completely appropriate.  Not only had the two of them been so important to the messiah figure, but he was responsible for their deaths.  The Crow was about to give into his own misery again when he felt a light touch at his shoulder.