Xenofall (The Wasteland Chronicles, Book 7) (3 page)

I turned back to Askal.
Is there anything else we should know?

Askal looked at me.
I’ve told you all I can. I will think about this,
Elekim,
and see if I discover anything more.

I nodded.
Thank you, Askal.

Perhaps Quietus may be of more help.

I realized Askal was right. If there was anyone who knew about what the
Radaskim
might be planning, it was probably her. After all, she
had
been
Radaskim.

“We need to talk to Quietus,” I said. “You have any ichor left, Samuel?”

“Yeah, I managed to collect a few vials before we evacuated.”

“Good. Let’s go find her, then.”

***

W
e found Quietus in one of the back caverns, sitting alone on an island in the center of a small pool. Two xenotrees with white bark grew from the island, but Quietus towered over both. She had a way of dwarfing everything around her. As we swam into the cavern, her white eyes turned upon us. She unfurled her dark wings, stretching them, before folding them back.

We reached the island and emerged from the ichor. I craned my neck to look at Quietus. Despite her now being
Elekai,
there was something still a bit chilling about her. Dark. Her white eyes blazed as she glared down at us.

Quietus, we need your help.

Doubtless – otherwise, you would not be here. I feel your trepidation, and do not fault you for it; indeed, it is well-placed. Still, perhaps I may be of use to you. How might I aid you,
Elekim?

I tried not to let Quietus’s preamble unnerve me, so I went on with what I was going to say.

The
Radaskim
have sent meteorites crashing into the Great Blight. One of them crashed into a lake of ichor, which made it change in color.
I paused, as Quietus watched with glowing, white eyes.
The crawlers swam into the lake, and Askal thinks a new set of evolutions is imminent. What do you think?

Quietus made a strange sound in her throat, almost like a chortle. Anna and Samuel looked at each other.

You deliver the ichor to Askal, who knows nothing,
Quietus said.
But leave none for the First of the
Radaskim?
Before I could assist you, I would need a fresh sample.

“She needs some of the ichor,” I said to Samuel.

He reached into his pack, withdrawing a vial of pink, glowing liquid. He walked forward, laying the vial on the fungus in front of Quietus.

Splendid,
Quietus said.
Let us see what horrors my Mother is brewing.

As Askal had, Quietus broke the vial, letting the pink ichor loose. She lapped most of it up with her tongue, taking care to avoid the shattered glass. The rest was absorbed into the xenofungal bed.

Quietus stretched her neck, closing her eyes in contemplation.

Ah,
she said.
A fine draft. These are old genes, genes not seen in millions of years. I was young when I first learned of these. They are from the First Reapings,
Elekim.
Though I am still
Elekai,
in my soul, some small, dark part of me sings at the ruin these codes confine.
Quietus opened her eyes, gazing at me levelly.
The Dark Mother fears you,
Elekim.

Why does she fear me?

Askala is ruled by fear,
Quietus said.
After all, she herself rules by it. You forget,
Elekim –
even Askala is a thrall of a lord more ancient and terrible. But thankfully for you and this world, he is far off yet.

The fact that there was something
worse
than Askala out there was more than unnerving.

My Mother’s webs are intricate, and the
Radaskim
have hidden paths that even I, Quietus, know not. I have tasted the ichor, and this I know: the expansion of the
Radaskim
swarm shall quicken. But do not despair; there is still time to fight, though that time is little. There are three days until the final battle, until this final evolution is complete.

I looked into Quietus’s featureless, white eyes, chilled to the bone. Three days, and we still didn’t know what we’d be up against. More than ever, the fight seemed impossible, and I was tempted to despair.

Quietus’s head lowered, until it was right in front of mine. Each of her eyes was as large as my face, and both of them stared at me now.

Take care,
Elekim.
And do not lose hope. If you lose hope...then the Dark Mother has already won.

Quietus...thank you.

I looked at her a moment longer before turning to Samuel and Anna.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” I said. “There’s a lot to explain.”

***

E
veryone was gathered in the conference hold. Michael, Makara, and Ruth were bleary-eyed at having been woken up. The Raiders slept on in the wardroom.

Michael poured a cup of coffee from a thermos into a ceramic mug. He passed the thermos on to Anna, who poured herself a cup.

I explained everything over the next few minutes, everyone becoming more alert when I talked about how the final evolutions would manifest in three days, which was when the final attack would begin.

Once I was done, Makara was the first to speak.

“Three days doesn’t give us much time. Augustus won’t be too pleased.”

“We really don’t have much choice,” Samuel said. “The facts are the facts, and Augustus will understand that.”

“Did Quietus explain what the final evolutions would be?” Michael asked.

I shook my head. “Not really. The one thing she did say was that the ichor contained old genes she hadn’t seen in over a million years.” I sighed. “That doesn’t really help us, though.”

“Now we
really
have to go to Bunker One,” Samuel said. “It has tons of xenoviral strains on file, so there might be some matches to the ones in the ichor. Some might even be
exactly
the same. We could crosscheck the genes, and it could reveal what we might be up against.”

“Do you think Bunker One’s servers are still online?” Makara asked.

Samuel nodded. “They were when we left. If not...we could see if Bunker 84 has similar research, though I doubt it does. The bulk of xenoviral research occurred in Bunker One, as we all know. Ashton uploaded most of that research into Skyhome’s servers, but...”

All I could think was how untimely Ashton’s death had been, and not just him –
everyone
who had lived in Skyhome.

“Bunker One will be dangerous,” Makara said.

Michael shook his head. “We should think twice before going in there. These things have a way of getting complicated. With a big Bunker like that, it would be easy to get trapped in the lower levels”

“I know,” Makara said, “but do we have a choice? Where else can we find out about these final evolutions? We know that they’re old, but we need specifics.”

“We just have to analyze the ichor, and the system will allow us to see if any of the strains are recognizable,” Samuel said. “It’s worth a shot. Even if it’s a dead end, we’ll probably come away knowing more than we do now.”

Everyone looked to Makara.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll get what rest we can. Take everyone back to Los Angeles and brief Augustus on the situation. Then, we’ll come back to Bunker One tomorrow. Or, I guess, today. It’s already 03:00.”

“There’s also the matter of getting the army ready,” Anna said.

“That’s Augustus’s and Carin’s field, along with Char and Marcus,” Makara said. “Nevertheless, our input might be needed.”

We still hadn’t hammered out details for the final battle. The Angels, the Empire, and the Reapers were all working together, which was easier said than done. Even though Carin Black had betrayed Augustus, we still needed his resources and tactical know-how. Even with Augustus keeping him in check, the fact remained that the Reapers had betrayed us once already, and they could easily do so again.

For now, at least, everyone appeared to be on the same page. Without that unity, we were
all
dead.

“Let’s head back, and get some rest,” Makara said. “I want everyone in the wardroom by 10:00. We’re going to have a busy day.”

W
e were on the ground in Los Angeles at 10:00 sharp. I still wanted a few more hours of sleep, but when would I ever
not
want that? When the world was ending for a second time, sleep inevitably took the back burner.

We headed to the U.S. Bank Tower, where we were to meet up with Augustus and Carin to plan our attack into the Great Blight. On our way there, I took in my surroundings. As I watched the people of Los Angeles filter in and out of the decrepit skyscrapers, I realized that an entire community existed here. The Black Reapers might have controlled the city, but the majority of its citizens were not members of the gang. They merely lived in the gang’s shadow and had to play by its rules. I’d been told, back when I lived in Bunker 108, that Los Angeles had a population of ten thousand.

Surely, after the battle, it was much less now.

There were the citizens and there were the slaves, and it was easy to tell the difference between the two. In front of a soot-stained skyscraper, a heavyset woman thrust a broom at another, thinner woman, whose clothing had rips and tears. The woman took the broom, keeping her eyes to the ground, and began sweeping outside the building’s entrance. After a few sweeps, she paused and looked up, meeting my eyes. I was surprised at how young she was, a mask of dirt darkening her hollow cheeks. But worst of all, a brand had been seared into her forehead: the number
0.
Around the brand the skin was reddened and raw.

Her gaze quickly dropped to the ground.

“We need to do something about the slavery here,” I said.

“I’m not saying it’s right,” Makara said. “It’s just a lot more complicated than it looks.”

I supposed the sight of slavery was far more common to her than it was to me. I knew this world had a way of hardening emotions, but seeing one human being control another was something I’d never be okay with. All the same, it wasn’t like the free citizens were just standing around; it seemed as if everyone was cleaning the rubble left behind by the
Radaskim
attack. On the side of the street, a giant pile of dead crawlers had been gathered for burning. Even a few days after the attack, cleanup was still going on.

“One thing at a time,” Makara said. “Survival is the most important thing right now. I’m sure the slaves would agree with that.”

I supposed Makara was right, but it was hard to stomach the injustice that existed here.

We continued on to the tower. As we neared, the crowds thinned. We ascended a set of steps to the entrance. Two Reapers with assault rifles stood guard out front, flanking each side of the entrance. They stood still as they let us pass.

We stepped into a lobby lit with torches. Shadows danced on the wide walls of the spacious atrium. The white marbled floor gleamed in the dancing light.

A long table had been set up in the center of the space. Among the few Reapers present, there were many more Imperials – purple-garbed Praetorians, grizzled legionaries, along with Augustus himself, sitting at the head of the table. Carin Black sat in the next chair over, looking at us with his glacial eyes as we entered. A small, superior smile stretched his thin lips. The yellow light of the torches illuminated his heavily tattooed arms – the serpent on his right forearm, the Grim Reaper on his right biceps, and the skull and cross-scythes on his left biceps. Behind Black stood his son, Onyx, his black eyes like pits in the firelight. He smirked.

“The Angels from on high arrive at last,” Carin Black said.

“Shut up, Black,” Makara said, taking a seat at the table. “Augustus is the only reason you don’t have a bullet in your head right now, but from the way you’re talking, it’s probably full of empty air, anyway.”

Black frowned, while Onyx gave Makara a death stare.

“Actually,” Anna said, taking a seat next to Makara and fixing Black with a level gaze, “it’s probably full of earwax.”

“That would make sense,” Makara said. “It would explain his propensity to not listen.”

“Alright,” Black said, “shut it, you dumb, stupid...”

Augustus held up a hand. “Silence!”

But Black’s son, Onyx, wasn’t listening. “Father, I will shoot them right now if you give the word.”

Anna looked up. “One more croak out of you, toad, and it’s your guts on the floor.”

Everyone went silent. While I wanted to high-five Makara and Anna, the Emperor was less than amused.

“We must focus on the task at hand,” he said. “I
will not
have this peace broken with these petty gibes. You make a mockery of this alliance.”’

“Alliance is too kind a word for this farce,” Samuel said, also taking a seat. “But let’s pretend a little longer.”

Everyone else took their seats as the Reapers and Imperials gazed on in silence. I noticed one of the legionaries was Horacio, the short man who had cooked for us back in Augustus’s camp. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement before I looked at the Emperor.

“First,” Augustus said, “let’s all agree to be peaceable. Makara has already let me know about the evolutions the
Radaskim
are developing. I would think she, of all people, would have the most reason to set aside differences for the sake of progress.”

Makara’s face burned. She’d been put in her place, and she knew it, but she wasn’t going to apologize.

“I thought it would be best for Alex to explain everything,” she said. “He’s the one who talked to Quietus.”

“That
Radaskim
dragon?” Carin Black asked.

Makara gave a terse nod.

Once again, it fell to me to catch everyone up. As I spoke, Augustus and Carin listened while Onyx glowered in the background. I could tell that he wanted nothing more than to shoot both Makara and Anna dead. Even if the two of them wanted to do the same, Augustus was right. We had to keep the peace.