Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy) (27 page)

As he burst through the doorway into the briefing room, he found Ryan looking over notes with Carver.  The two of them were so close, and so often they ganged up on Darius and his ideas.  If things had gone according to Darius’ plans, they would have suffered fewer casualties during the assault on the Crows’ barracks.  Some people would be still alive, and maybe Templeton would have both of his eyes.

“You have the reports?” Jenkins asked from the other side of the table.  Templeton sniffed and then crossed the room, throwing the folder onto the table before turning to leave.  Even now he was a glorified errand boy; relaying messages from Communications about fleet movements in Orbital Space.  It was important, it needed to happen, but Templeton should have been playing a larger role.

“Darius, get back here!” Jenkins shouted behind him.  The revolutionary stopped in his tracks, his anger starting to bubble over.  He did what he could to keep his temper in check, but Ryan was about five important words away from being strangled.

“What, Ryan?  What do you need?” Darius said with venom in every syllable.  If it was up to him, Jenkins would be nothing more than the poster boy.  He had no place in this army.  Carver had EOSF experience, at least, but Ryan was just a thief.  Darius turned to see the two of them glaring at him.  Jenkins was looking flustered and breathed heavily.

“You need to stop, Darius,” he stated, his hands gripping the gray table and the knuckles on his hands turning white.  It seemed that Ryan was holding back his own anger.  Darius started to walk forward, the red light from his eye narrowing as it reacted to the adrenaline in Templeton’s system.

“Stop what, Ryan?  What do you need me to do?” Darius asked, stopping on the other side of the table.  He could tell that Carver was standing up to his full height, ready to get in between the two, but Templeton knew he could handle the veteran.  Jenkins leaned over the table a little more and glared at his angry comrade.

“You’re being childish.  I know that you hate me right now.  I get it.  I’m the kid who came out of nowhere, and I’m sure you blame me for quite a bit.  I don’t blame you for being angry at me for what happened during that last briefing,” Jenkins said as he breathed in deeply.  “But this has to stop.”

“You still haven’t said what I need to stop, Messiah,” Templeton said, every muscle in his body becoming tense.  Only years of military training was holding him back.

“That.  You need to stop treating me like your enemy.  We have too much at stake to be quibbling and fighting like this, Templeton.  You think I want this role?  You think I
want
to be the leader of the resistance?  I’d fucking quit in a second, Darius, but I don’t have that option.  And the worst part is that I’m learning
on the job
.  I’m trying to figure out if we can take hold of Orbit Space and I don’t have the first fucking clue about space battles.  A lot of people are going to die out there and it’s going to be my fault, Templeton.  I don’t want that burden, but I’ll take it a thousand times over.  Too many of my friends, too many people that depended on me are dead or about to die.  I owe it to them to continue, to keep fighting and to give them the best fucking chance.”

“And you know what’s getting me through all this, Templeton?” Jenkins asked, his hands letting blood flow back to his knuckles as he released his hold.  Darius was still angry, but he did have to admit that the messiah figure had a way with words.

“What, Ryan?  What’s getting you through this?”  Jenkins bit his lip at that, which shocked the revolutionary.  It was a sign of vulnerability; something Templeton didn’t expect to see.

“It’s that I have so many people by my side.  I wouldn’t be able to make it without Tom, without Jonathon.  And believe it or not, I count on you, too.  If you stopped being so antagonistic we could actually get through all of this.  I would love to hear your opinion on the matter.  And really, Darius, when you put forward that plan to assassinate Jasper I wanted to agree with you.  I
want
that bastard dead,” Jenkins said as he slammed the table and tears started to well up in his eyes.  “That old man is the reason that Charlotte,” he said before looking down and giving into his misery.  Almost immediately he recovered and looked into the black man’s face.  The resolve was back, but Templeton realized why Jenkins was the leader of this resistance.  He knew why everyone followed him. 

Jenkins was human.  Templeton was just a soldier.  He would never be able to compete with the messiah figure.  Ryan Jenkins was more relatable and more sympathetic than Darius could ever be.  Even in his anger, Darius thought about burying the hatchet and joining forces.  The only thing stopping him was his stubbornness.

“It just wasn’t the smart play, Templeton.  Whenever you want to come back and contribute, whenever you want to grow up and stop treating us like enemies I will take you back with open arms.  I
want
your help,” Jenkins said before looking down and opening the folder that Templeton had thrown at him.  Darius at first felt like a scolded child, but as the image hit him the anger started to boil over again, threatening to consume him.  He was older than the messiah; he was not the kind of man who should be put into his place like that.  In his indignation, Templeton looked at Carver, who had been silent the entire time.

“Time for you to go.  Not an order, Darius,” Carver said, crossing his arms.  “But you know that there’s nothing more to be said.”  Templeton felt just as much fury as he had when he first entered the room and huffed angrily.  He spun on his heels and gave himself over to his indignation, savoring the taste of the seemingly-righteous anger.

As he exited, Templeton didn’t realize that he was just angry at himself.

-

Goldstein shifted in his seat.  He was never one for celebrations and he was stuck in the middle of one.  Every once in a while one of the more raucous revolutionaries would bump into him, maybe spill a little of their drink, but Zachary would just shrug it off.  He couldn’t be angry at them for enjoying themselves; he couldn’t blame them for being happy.

After all, Zachary Goldstein might have been the happiest one in the room.

The common room had erupted after the reports came in from the space battle.  It was a tense few hours as the EOSF defectors had surprised the incoming ships and revealed their revolutionary ties.  It was a huge gamble, but Jenkins, Atlas and Goldstein had decided to use all of their forces in order to gain this foothold into Orbital Space.  There was little communication due to atmospheric disturbance during the attack and for a while they all dreaded the worst outcome.

But when the dust settled, the EFI stood victorious.  Not only were two asteroids under their control, but they had true power in Orbital Space.  The defectors had even been able to capture the flagship of the fleet, adding it to their ranks.  The operation had been a risky move, but now the Trade Union had to accept that the EFI was no longer just a terrorist cell.  They were a force to be reckoned with.

The quartermaster had allowed the revolutionaries more than their fair share of alcohol rations after that.  Garrison’s information had paid off and Zachary would have to accept that the man was in their ranks.  It wouldn’t be much longer before the other asteroids would start to fall in line.  Goldstein considered that maybe Elysia would be the next one.  The EOSF presence on Demeter was far too much considering the slave yards, and Midgard and Zion would most likely be stubborn.  Solaria wasn’t going to contribute, either.  But Elysia was full of intellectuals.  At this point maybe idealism would take over.

Zachary looked around the room and smiled.  They all seemed so happy; the civilians along with the career soldiers.  He almost couldn’t tell them apart.  As he looked around the room he realized that this was what he wanted all along.  Zachary had always wanted to provide this kind of excitement and pleasure; all his other pursuits seemed so hollow in comparison.  He remembered his plans for the resort on Solaria and laughed at his former self.  Goldstein had changed, and he really appreciated that.

He looked up from his drink and across the room, finding Jenkins smiling as he sat with Carver and Thomas.  The three of them were clearly putting on a show for the rest of the troops.  Their minds were constantly engulfed in the reality of the war; they couldn’t stop being leaders for a moment.  Goldstein figured that they were thinking about the one lost EOSF ship and its crew that had died in the void of space.  It almost brought the middle-aged Crow to tears, himself.  It was no way to die.

The sparkling wine in his glass was still bubbling, but Goldstein had no wish to drink it.  He had never liked the stuff; it gave him headaches as soon as it passed his lips. But he realized that he wanted more occasions like this.  He wanted more victories.  He looked up at the celebrating people around him and decided it was time.  Zachary hadn’t told anyone this, but he was hungry for the next step.  Goldstein wanted more reasons for celebrations.

A sharp ringing sound filled the room.  The noise of shouting and laughing continued for a moment, but the ring came again, which caused most of the partiers to look around.  Eventually all eyes fell upon the middle-aged man with the black hair.  He wore a wry smile and raised his glass.

“A toast, my friends,” he said as he kept the sparkling wine at arm’s length.  He watched as all the revolutionaries raised their glasses along with him.

“This is a huge victory.  We have shown superiority and captured a flagship.  The Trade Union can no longer look down on the Earth Freedom Initiative and think they can crush us under their heel.  We have two planets and Orbit Space, with more sure to come.  There’s plenty to hope for, and I can only imagine it will happen sometime soon.”

“Some of us weren’t here in the beginning.  Some of us joined the effort when we found that we couldn’t live a life without freedom,” Goldstein said, his voice only slightly wavering at the effort.  He tried to push away his memories of being selfish.  “Some of us had to learn the hard way.”

“A toast to our fallen friends and the lives they protected by giving their own,” Zachary said, lifting his glass higher.  He watched as the room mimicked his actions and then drank down their glasses.  Goldstein did the same and felt the headache already coming on.  The Crow tried to find Gerrig and his remaining soldiers, but it seemed the Mastodons were not celebrating with them.  Zachary was disappointed at that, but it was only natural.  The three soldiers had become somewhat despondent after the attack on the EOSF base, after they had lost half their number. 

Goldstein backed away from the crowd and heard the laughing and talking starting again, but he didn’t much care about that.  He had said his peace; he had done his duty to the party.  Now it was time for him to get back to work.

Zachary walked over to the leaders of the revolution.  He could see that they were watching him with approval, but they knew that this was not a social call.  As Goldstein walked up to the three men, he could see them retreat away from happiness and back to the war.

“That was nice, Zachary,” Thomas said as he cradled his mug.  Goldstein guessed that the man was nursing an old whiskey; the teacher was fond of the stuff.

“Almost believed it,” Carver said as he breathed in deeply.

“Take that back, Carver.  I meant every word,” Zachary said, becoming confrontational with the old man yet again.  They had never been on good terms, but Goldstein had thought the Carver would at least give him respect.   He wondered if the old Crow still felt sore about his code name, but decided to see what Carver would say.

“Not every word.  The sympathy and the toast itself, yes.  I couldn’t have said it better.  But that ‘plenty to hope for?’  That’s not your style or the truth.  You wouldn’t have come over here if that was the case,” Carver said, his blue eyes filled with understanding.  Zachary stared at the veteran for a while, but eventually sighed and pulled up a chair.

“You’re smarter than I give you credit, John,” Zachary said as he crossed his legs and considered his next words.

“You have a problem with that, Goldstein.  You always underestimate people.  Might get you in trouble one day,” Carver said as he took a gulp from the beer in his glass.  Jenkins ran his hand through his hair and then supported his head with it as he looked to the recent addition to their group.

“So what’s the deal, Zach?  What are we looking at?” the weary messiah asked.  Goldstein almost felt guilty about pushing the issue so soon.

“My leak, the one who gave us the information.  You know him,” Goldstein said, waiting for the questions that didn’t come.  He decided to answer them anyway.  “It’s Maxwell Garrison.”

“Max?  Really?” Carver asked, very skeptical at the bureaucrat’s involvement.  He had never known the man to do anything but sign papers.  Goldstein bit his cheek before continuing.

“Yeah.  Lost his wife and son on Eris.  Turns out that’s a powerful motivator.  But there’s something else.  Something we need to talk about,” Zachary said as he scratched the back of his neck.  He didn’t know why he was so nervous.  At any other time he would have been playing coy and joking around.  Maybe this time he felt the weight of it all.