Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy) (31 page)

BOOK: Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy)
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“I have to.... I have to take a walk,” Norris said as he walked past the kneeling woman and zipped up his pants, pausing only to open the door of the apartment.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was wrong with how this played out.

“Eddie!” he heard the woman shout from the kitchen, but the door slammed behind him and Edward rushed out of the building.

He was five blocks away when he finally looked around in a panic.  He didn’t know what was happening and realized that everything had gone sideways.  Frantically he looked for some sign, some way to calm himself, and found an empty bench on the street.  He sat down and buried his head in his hands, his thoughts threatening to engulf him.

The red-headed killer was breathing heavily as he regained his senses.  He finally realized what he had been doing all this time.  It was the self-sabotage all over again.  Edward had never wanted to kill anyone, had only started to like it because his victims used to get right back up.  Norris had pushed down his revulsion towards the violent act because it used to be entertainment and after that it was the duty he owed the resistance.  Back then, he hadn’t strayed from his morality.

Now it seemed that was all Norris could ever do.  He spent more time on these unsanctioned hits, these civilian deaths, than his actual duties for the EFI.  And while he could justify his own choices, he realized that he was
blindly
killing Cassandra’s targets just because it was her turn.  He had trusted her to make the moral choice, but he realized that was a weak excuse.  It should have been a requirement that the woman tell him what these people had done. 

Edward Norris hadn’t required the woman to do a thing.  He just killed the people she picked out and didn’t question the morality of it.  The killing itself had become an inconsequential action, a mere release for frustration and a void in the Englishman’s soul. 

It wasn’t just a job anymore, it was his life.

-

“Tom, you can’t seriously be thinking about this.  It’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard and they will hang you just to show they can!  We gain nothing and whatever ground that we’ve made in the last two weeks will mean
nothing
!” Templeton shouted at his teacher.  Thomas had been the one to recruit the young EOSF officer; the one to bring him into the fold.  And now it seemed like his mentor was determined to commit suicide just because some inconsequential ambassador wanted to sit down for a meet.

“Darius, I really don’t have a choice.  Whatever chance at peace we have is something we must consider.  In order to maintain our moral superiority, we have to at least
talk
to them.  I have to go,” Atlas said as he started to pack up certain documents from his desk.  He left the manila folder in the center, a parting gift for the new leader of the EFI.  Ryan Jenkins was perfectly capable, but Thomas knew that there was so much that the boy needed to know; that he needed to learn.  Thomas had been writing that letter for weeks, crumpling up the sheets whenever the words didn’t seem to come out right. 

He had only finished it the night before because he didn’t have any time left.

“No, Tom, this is insane.  I know everybody thinks I’m this super-violent, antagonistic person who doesn’t want peace, but I’m coming at you with reason, ok?  There is literally no risk for them and plenty for us.  They have never had a chance to find you before, but this way you are walking right into their trap.  There is literally no upside to this!  Even if there is peace we’re fucked, Tom!” Templeton swore, anger seeping into his voice but not his argument.  He knew that Atlas would not respond to mindless aggression.  The older man looked up from his desk and gave another one of his sad smiles to his student.  It was tough to consider that he might have to say goodbye for the last time.

“I’m only a symbol at this point, Darius.  Ryan’s taken over, and I know you don’t like it,” he said as Templeton scoffed, “but there’s little use for me, now.  All I really am is counsel, which can be useful, but Ryan has plenty of wise men to whisper words into his ear.  Jonathon won’t abandon the boy and we have reasonable intelligence throughout the system,” Thomas said as he rounded the desk and placed his right hand on the black man’s shoulder.  “And really, Darius, if it comes to it, he’ll have you.”

“Tom,” Darius started, but the former leader of the resistance shook his hand and stared hard into Templeton’s eyes.

“Promise me, Darius.  I mean it.  He wants your help now, even if you won’t offer it, but if I don’t make it back he will
need
your help.  Because if peace fails, outright war is the only option left.  I’m more than willing to give my life for the prospect of peace, my friend,” Atlas said as he removed his hand and picked up his bag. 

“That’s my purpose.  I was never meant to lead this resistance, Darius, and it’s a wonder that I did for so long.  Do I need to remind you why I chose my code name?  Why I decided to use the titan’s name?” Thomas asked as he looked at his student.

“You wanted to seem powerful,” Darius said, shaking his head and looking down, but he could hear his teacher grunt at that.

“Oh, Darius, stop it.  No, Atlas held up the world.  After St. Louis I was the senior official in the EFI.  I was the last, we’ll say, leader left.  And I was way down the totem pole, Darius.  I never wanted to be in charge.  So I chose Atlas.  My role was to hold up this resistance until the right man came along.  I was always meant to give my burden away, and while I realize how terrible it is, I’m glad that Ryan was able to take it from me.”

“You don’t have to walk into a death trap, Tom,” Templeton said, tears flowing from both his real and artificial eyes.  “It’s not right for Goldstein to force this on you.”  He looked back up to see Thomas smiling at him before laughing.

“No one is forcing this on me, Darius.  I want to go.  I want to show the world that we’re on their side.  I want to show the people that we never intended for all of this death and destruction.  Really, Darius, I just want this to be over,” he said as he looked down at his feet.  “I’m tired, my friend.  So very tired.  I think it might be time to rest.”  He continued to watch the ground as he heard his student turn and head towards the entrance.

“Come back, Tom.  You can rest without being dead,” Templeton said, sniffing loudly and then walking away.  Thomas felt a wave of guilt as he realized how much this meant to the revolutionary.  Darius had a hard time expressing it, but there was a softer side to him.  Atlas knew that he was one of the few people who had ever seen it.

Thomas looked back up in time to see a shadow by the doorway and traced it to its origin.  The celebrity smiled awkwardly before knocking, which made Thomas smile.  It was nice to see a man like Eric Jones so far from his comfort zone.

“Eric, how are you today?”  He asked as he started to walk towards the celebrity.  Eric breathed out deeply before nervously smiling.

“I could be better, Tom.  Are you ready?  We’re about to leave,” the new revolutionary said, which caused Thomas to chuckle softly.

“Are you sure you want to come, Eric?  You could prove yourself in some less dangerous missions, you know,” Atlas said as he stood a meter away from the celebrity.  Eric shrugged and leaned against the doorframe.

“I could, but the revolution could be over today.  What missions would I be going on?” Eric said while giving a smile, this one absent the plastic and showmanship that had earned the celebrity his massive paycheck.  Atlas had to laugh at the comment, but he shook his head.

“Eric.”

“Look, Tom,” Eric said as he pushed off the doorframe and shoved his hands in his pockets.  “As much as I want to be on the frontlines, I’m way more useful like this.  Since I effectively started the whole thing on
War World
, I’m just as much a spokesman for the revolution as you or Ryan.  I’ll have a gun so I can protect you, so that’ll help, but just my being there is its own symbol.  Even if that’s the only use I can be,” Eric said, but he was unable to finish the statement.  Atlas gave his signature sad smile and put his hand on the man’s right shoulder as he passed, standing beside him and offering a show of compassion.

“Eric, I know the feeling well.  I don’t judge you for that.”

“Well, that’s good,” Eric said as he nervously laughed and turned to head towards the exit with the former leader of the revolution.  As they walked, Eric rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.  “I wouldn’t want old Atlas to judge me for being just a pretty face.”  Atlas shook his head at that, truly smiling at the man’s humor in the face of death.  This was what Thomas had been fighting for, after all.  To save the world for this kind of optimism and humor; to see the nervous smiles and joy that humanity could find in the darkest places.  As he walked, Atlas hoped that he could fulfill Darius’ last request.

“Oh, Eric.  At least you have that.  All I have is a pretty name.”

-

Jasper was sitting at his desk when the bureaucrat walked into his domain.  The puppet master watched Garrison as he approached, seeing that Maxwell seemed thinner; gaunt, even.  It was an odd sight, as Montgomery had known the Regional Director to keep a more than healthy diet.  Jasper guessed that this job as Ambassador was causing a great deal of stress.

As well it should
, Jasper thought as Garrison hurried up to his desk.

“Mr. Montgomery.  Everything is in place and we’ll be able to start negotiations in just a few hours.  I’m grateful you’ve allowed me the opportunity, sir, even if I was unable to reach Carver directly,” he said, rushing through the statement without a breath.  Jasper merely smiled and motioned for the overweight man to sit in the chair to his right.  Maxwell took it without complaint and gathered his sport coat around him.

“And Atlas will be there?” Jasper asked, wondering if this plan was coming together properly.  Maxwell nodded with enthusiasm and wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

“Oh, yes.  Atlas, Zachary Goldstein, even Eric Jones from
War World
is set to attend.  I’ll be able to talk with them directly and negotiate a settlement, allowing us control over certain districts while we regroup, sir,” Garrison said before smiling at his boss.  Jasper gave a malicious smile of his own before rising from his chair and walking over to the oak cabinet.  He debated on what he should give the poor, overweight man, but he decided it was best to just get Maxwell a stiff drink.  He poured two fingers of bourbon into a crystal glass and then brought it over to Garrison, who looked confused.

“Thank you sir, but won’t you join me?” Garrison asked, but Jasper merely laughed and shook his head.

“No, no, I don’t think so, Max.  I am in no mood for drinks, though I will be celebrating after you bring me their heads.  No, that drink is for you to settle your nerves.  I need you to maintain some poise while I reveal the true plan for this afternoon.”  Jasper walked to his desk and sat on the gorgeous piece of furniture, watching Garrison’s face contort into shock and surprise.

“Now, Max,” Jasper said, that smile twisting even further, “did you really think that we’d let you run around representing the Trade Union?  After I killed your wife and son?  I’m sorry, Maxwell, but I knew from the very beginning that you were going to betray me.  Unfortunately you’ve never been that bright; a great bureaucrat and accountant, but a strategist you are not.  I would drink, Maxwell, it will settle those nerves of yours,” Jasper said as he turned and walked around his desk, stopping by the window.  He looked out on his warring city and knew this would end soon.  As soon as their spiritual leader was gone, their resistance fractured, the EOSF and the Trade Union would reign supreme.  It was just a matter of time.

“You knew?” Garrison asked weakly.  Jasper turned to see the overweight man working the thoughts around his head.  He watched as Maxwell rose from his seat and looked Jasper in the eye.  Montgomery could see outright defiance in the coward’s eyes; it was such a rare sight for the executive.

“Oh, of course, Maxwell.  Especially after you tried so hard to get the position.  No one would dare question me if they wanted to live, much less gain employment.  I knew you were suicidal or, at least, reckless.  It was not difficult to realize that you wanted revenge for your petty little family.  And now, to my ....delight,” Jasper said as he sat back down in his leather throne, “I get to watch you betray this terrorist force you love so dearly.”

“I won’t do it, Jasper.  You can kill me, but I won’t go.  I won’t betray them and if I don’t give the go ahead they won’t show.  You tipped your hand too early,” Maxwell said in a rare display of courage, but Montgomery slammed the desk and snarled at the overweight bureaucrat.

“No, Maxwell!  You tipped
your
hand too early!  Don’t you
DARE
try to speak to me as a superior or even an equal.  I can crush you and the other billions of people on this planet without a single ounce of effort!  You are all ants to me,” he said as he started to calm down and leaned back in his seat.  Garrison’s lips quivered for a moment, he was experiencing true terror, but he regained his resolve and straightened his jacket.

BOOK: Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy)
8.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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