Shadow Heart (14 page)

“They were masters of battle, Grace; you wouldn’t believe it. Like nothing the world had ever seen before…they combined modern and medieval warfare, and their warriors took to carrying scimitars again. It was enough to make even the greatest of us afraid.” He looked down at the table. “And fear can make us do foolish things.”

He unclipped his Spectral Gladius and set it on the table between them. The engraving,
Renovatio
, shone up at her from the emerald casing. “Solithium was set to change everything. The Spectral Gladius was only the beginning, a result of research into the properties of electromagnetic radiation—specifically photons—and how they could be manipulated to assume an actual form. Using the unprecedented amount of energy Solithium could produce, they took x-ray beams and applied supercharged electric force to excite the electrons to a frequency higher than anything we had ever observed. The closest thing to it was lightning: pure, solid lightning. They realized that what they had created was more than an x-ray. More than a gamma ray, even. So they called it—”

“Perfect Light.”

“Yes,” Crenshaw nodded. “At first they saw it as the potential for shield technology, but they had trouble controlling it. The electric force necessary to create Perfect Light was just as hazardous as anything it might protect them from when they tried to create the shield in open air. But when they thought to apply the electricity through a conductor, they were able to stabilize it.” He moved his thumb over the hilt of
Renovatio
and swiped the activation switch. The blade assembled in the blink of an eye, and the diamond armor ignited with a low hum. “The blade of a Gladius emits very low levels of electromagnetic radiation, and a charge from the Solithium chamber in the hilt funnels electricity through the metal to ignite the radiation into Perfect Light. In this way, they successfully stabilized the reaction. So what had been meant as shield technology was transformed into a super-sword.

“They tried many forms of armor, but could find nothing powerful enough to protect organic matter from the electric supercharge necessary to create Perfect Light. Through an unfortunate accident that cost the lives of several scientists, they also discovered what would happen if the Solithium caused an overload: a massive, supercharged photon with the power to disrupt everything it touched on the atomic level. Seeing long-range applications, they incorporated this into the weapon and added the secondary form.” Crenshaw pulled back on the hilt and it separated into halves. The top half slid back and pulled down. As it clicked into place, the diamond armor went dark and the metallic shards realigned into a long cylinder. Now the weapon looked more like a shotgun than a sword.

“At that point their endeavors were purely exploratory, meant to lead to what they were sure would become a new industrial revolution. But then, Persia asserted itself. The scientists realized the value of the weapon they had built, and Silent Thunder was born.”

Grace tapped her fingers absently on the table as Crenshaw put his Gladius away. “While I appreciate the lesson in science and history, it still doesn’t answer my question. What are we talking about here? What were these fragments designed to hide?”

Crenshaw sighed, “There were rumors of…other things. Things that if not for fear we might never have tried to build. One project was particularly disturbing. Unfortunately, that rumor turned out to be true.”

“What was it?”

“I’m not sure exactly what it is; all I know is what it can
do
. You’ve seen the destruction that a Solithium burst can cause. Now imagine that effect compounded 500,000 times.”

“That would be enough to destroy an entire city,” Grace said, almost in protest. “An entire region, even.”

“That’s one theory,” Crenshaw said darkly. “The other is that a photon of that power would punch a hole through the Earth with enough force to impact the core. If the core was to be rendered inert, the planet would slowly lose all of the elements necessary to sustain life.”

Grace felt a chill travel up her spine. “You’re telling me that the United States, the nation that we are working tirelessly to restore, built a weapon capable of destroying the world.”

“Presumably the weapon’s operator would be able to program the power of the photon, but at maximum strength it has that potential, yes.”

In the Wilderness Grace had learned a great respect for technology. It was an inevitable byproduct of growing up in that world, where simple comforts that those in the cities enjoyed were scarce. Her own mother had died in childbirth because she couldn’t get access to basic medical supplies. In the Old World that never would have happened.

Technology made it easier to survive, but it also gave birth to easier and more sinister ways to kill. The bow and arrow, steel, gunpowder, the atomic bomb, the Spectral Gladius—all had changed the world in their respective times. But this—to give one mind the ability to exterminate the entire planet—was just too much to wrap her head around. And for it to have come from the nation she grew up idolizing—it was nothing less than a betrayal.

“Why?” she asked, desperate to understand.

“Fear,” Crenshaw said. “And ignorance, to a degree. Their goal was to build a weapon with which to deter the armies of Persia. They didn’t realize what they had created until it was too late. That’s when they buried it.”

“They should have destroyed it.”

“Perhaps,” Crenshaw said. “But there again was that fear, that if things with Persia went south they would need it. Imagine, Grace, if the United States had demonstrated that power. Do you really believe the Persians would not have surrendered?”

“So why didn’t they?” Grace asked. “When the Persian armies were closing in, why didn’t they use it?”

“They didn’t know where it was. The eight lead researchers—against government orders—hid the weapon and programmed these fragments, then placed them in undisclosed locations around the country. I suspect there is some security measure that only the full card can bypass as well, so that no single researcher could return for it without the others. My father, who was President at the time and understood their sentiment, secured their pardons. The project remained secret. No one else ever knew about it.”

“Except you.”

“Yes,” Crenshaw smiled. “But I didn’t learn about it from my father. I know because one of the eight researchers was a young naval scientist named Jonathan Charity. His intimate knowledge of Perfect Light and photon technology was one of the reasons he was chosen for Silent Thunder soon after. He revealed pieces of it all to me in case something were to happen to him, since Elijah was too young to understand. One of the first things he did when we returned from the war was check the location to make sure it was undisturbed. He went alone, however, and none of us knew it at the time.”

Jonathan Charity…the great hero of the rebellion. The man’s name might as well have been the banner they fought beneath! And he had helped create this destructive power? Was nothing she believed in truly pure?
No
, she decided. The stories we learn as children are meant to inspire, to instill hope and a daring to dream. But people—actual people—were the reality, and the truth was far messier than a bedtime story.

She looked back at the map, suddenly nauseous. She had inadvertently become a part of this mess, dragged into the struggle of the previous generation. It was a struggle they should have solved, but had left to the next instead.

“Why are we looking for this, Crenshaw? Why not leave it buried?”

“Because we don’t know who else knows. Jonathan told me…who might the others have told? The longer it is out there, the more likely it could fall into the wrong hands.”

“And when we get there?”

“When we get there, we’re going to have to make a choice.”

Grace nodded. But who could make such a choice? Her? Crenshaw? It was said that Solithium saved a nation and destroyed the world. But the scale here was so much bigger than that: they could secure freedom for mankind, but in the process put all life on the planet at risk. Still, the choice could not be ignored. When they reached the end of this journey, someone would have to decide:

Use the weapon, or destroy it.

“So as important as this is, it may not be the salvation we have been hoping for,” Grace said. “Should we destroy it, we will be no closer to defeating the World System.”

“That is one consequence, yes.”

“Then it is time we had a conversation,” Grace said, leaning forward over the table. “I’ve been thinking that it may be time to escalate our role in this war.”

Crenshaw’s expression remained impassive, “Escalate how?”

“We were forced to flee Alexandria, but only after we had wreaked havoc within the very heart of the System and engaged the Great Army several times. We nearly annihilated the Fourteenth Army at the Communications Tower, and the Battle of the Central Square will be spoken of for generations.”

“What are you getting at?”

“We have a reputation. Even more so now, since our exploits in the Wilderness. Our enemies fear us, Crenshaw, in a way they never have before. Now is the time to press our advantage. Now is the time to gain ground.
Real
ground.”

“So you want to what?” Crenshaw asked. “Attack the Great Army? Overrun an outpost?”

Grace held Crenshaw with her eyes, hoping to instill as much determination in her response as possible. “No. I want to take a city.”

The general laughed, a short chuckle only silenced when she did not join him. Then his eyes grew wide with disbelief, “You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

Crenshaw shook his head, “Grace, we don’t have the manpower—”

“I know everything you are about to say,” she interrupted. “And I get it. But when Silent Thunder numbered a thousand operatives they nearly took back the entire planet. With two hundred we can take one city, if we do it right. What I want to know is something only you can tell me: which city should we take?”

The general’s disapproval was plain, but he was first and foremost a military commander who had fought in all of the great wars of the last three decades, and he knew more about the World System than most of those who served it. His brow furrowed as he searched through that knowledge, matching it with all his years of strategy.

“Napoleon Alexander chose his cities well,” he said after a moment of silence. “Each is mostly self-sufficient, but they are positioned in such a way that if one city falls, others can come to take it back very quickly. To take a city from the MWR and be successful, you must control it
and
fortify it before he is even aware you are there. That would take alliances, bribes of Great Army generals, assassinations of key members of the city’s ruling class, weapons seizures, the list is endless.”

“Which city?” she asked more forcefully.

Crenshaw sighed, “The South American cities are out, with the destruction Sullivan is raining down on them. We can’t reach Europe or Australia, so that leaves three options. First, the weakest city: Waypoint. It was one of the last cities Alexander opened, to bridge the gap between the Corridor and Pacifica. The garrison of the Great Army there is much smaller than other cities.”

“But it is hardly a tempting target,” Grace said. “We need a symbolic victory, not a consolation prize.”

“Then second is Anchorage. Its distance from the rest of the cities means it has greater autonomy. They call it the Forgotten City, but because of the lack of World System interest you might find it difficult to galvanize the population to support you once Alexander sends the Great Army and Specter to reclaim it.”

“We would never make it that far north, and it is too far from the center of power for the kind of message I want to send. Come on, Crenshaw. Which city would
you
take, right now?”

The general attempted to hide his boyish grin but failed. The anticipation of some glorious adventure shone brightly in his eyes, “The Corridor. I would take the Corridor.”

“You’re joking,” she said, imagining this was some way to dissuade her from her goal. “The Corridor is the second most fortified division on the continent, surpassed only by Alexandria.”

“Which is what makes it such a tempting target. If we can conquer the city from within, those fortifications will protect us when the Great Army comes to retake it. The east coast cities are too well protected by the System’s navy at Carolina and Havana. To hold one, it has to be one that can only be attacked by land.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Grace asked. “Go in to Corridor North and make our way south?”

“No,” Crenshaw rose and moved to the controls, bringing up the map of the continent. Grace wasn’t sure what to think. It had been a long time since she had seen him so excited. “It
must
be Corridor Prime. Rule of the entire division hinges on it, and we will need it all.” He pointed to the map. “If we are successful, you will effectively cut the MWR’s continental holdings in half, further isolating Waypoint, Pacifica, and Vancouver from Alexandria. Simultaneously, it will provide us a base from which to solidify our hold over the Wilderness expanse between the Corridor and the east coast divisions. In one stroke you would control a quarter of the continent.”

Grace studied the map, overcome with a thrill at Crenshaw’s plan. If it came to fruition, she would no longer just be commander of Silent Thunder. She would rule one of the greatest cities in the world. From there, her father’s dream of dismantling the World System could become a reality.

“How would we do it?”

Crenshaw grimaced. “That’s the part you are not going to like. But it has to be done. Otherwise, this will never work.”

The thrill in Grace’s chest suddenly died. She had no desire to become a murderer. She had killed, but only in the heat of battle, when the men who had tasted
Novus Vita
would gladly have killed her given the chance. But when she had defeated Derek Blaine on top of the Communications Tower, she relented. He was her enemy, the man who had killed her father, and he deserved to die. But somehow, in that moment, she felt that killing him while helpless would place a terrible stain on her soul. Now she had that same inkling again.