“I told them about your ships, ma’am,” Dawn said.

  Charista said, “Oh? Yes, that’s right.”

  Charista’s face twisted as if stung on the heel by an insect. She shrugged the irritation off. “Whatever brought you here, it’s time we get on with our primary objective.” She spoke a few words into the comm then met my eyes again, this time with a small smirk. “I’ve notified Harkson. You and Dawn will push on to Cataclysm, and we’ve got some more... tools for you.”

  “What about Nelson? Isn’t he a crucial part of this too?”

  “Nelson, for our purposes, is lost for now. We can’t afford to wait anymore, I’m afraid. There’s no guarantee he hasn’t ended up with the Omegans either.”

  Dawn stepped up toward my side. “The transports, commander?”

  Charista beckoned us over to a MODOSNet terminal, where she tapped controls until diagrams of ships appeared. They were slender and sleek, and nothing like I’d seen. They were longer and skinnier than Hell Hawks. They sure looked fast. Their surface looked seamless, one continual piece of dark shiny metal. Treg stood next to me, his face blank. Wherever these ships were stored and however they came about, the average Warrior Product knew zip about ‘em.

  “These were in development around the time the Action first broke from Lebabolis. Not even Baudricort knew about them. I’m willing to bet they’ll make it.”

  “You couldn’t have brought these around sooner? You realize how many troops are getting killed out there, including your own gray bands?”

  “This war got messy fast. Problem is we don’t have an unlimited supply of these transport ships. In fact, they’re rather short in number. I’m afraid they aren’t good for direct assaults. Troops in the field are better off with the Hell Hawks.”

  “Well, how about letting loose with your garrison?”

  “We have to keep enough for the rear guard. This place is our last resort, and we’ll defend it to the last.”

  “Well, now that you’re sharing a small piece of your plan, how about letting us in on the rest?”

  “It’s quite simple, Worker Product. We get Cataclysm and turn it on the Omegans, then that ends them. I can thank Kaitlinn and Jason’s regiments for keeping the Omegans occupied until then.”

  Treg flipped his fingers through the stats on the ships while I took a seat next to Charista. “How’s the Pox treatment going?”

  “Better than expected.” She tapped away on the console, then stopped. “Ana, your brother made it through.”

  She said the words like she’d read the inventory for a food supply. An excited gasp escaped my lips.

  Had I done it?

  Was it true?

  I choked back a sob at the thought, of Varrick healthy. And now it wasn’t just an idea anymore. I felt Treg’s arm on my shoulder, and it took me a minute before I answered. “I want to see him.”

  The terminal sounded with a few beeps, and the symbol of the Valkyrie passed the screen. “In good time. I need to show you part of the gear we’ll be supplying you with.”

  Two soldiers wheeled in a large box that reminded me a lot of the Caches. The cover gleamed a little in the light, black metal with silver trim along the sides. Charista looked at the box as if it were one of her children. “This is the container for Cataclysm. It’s very important you place it in here as soon as you get it. Please use extreme care when handling Cataclysm. Any attempts to move or shake it could set it off, so please do not mess this up. I’d rather you had someone like Kado there with you, but there isn’t time for a proper outfitting.”

  “We’ve handled Valentium runs before; we know about delicate, lady.” Treg scoffed.

  “I won’t debate the safety risks. Just do this as part of our agreement, understand?” Her eyes were fixed on me the whole time, and they narrowed when she mentioned the agreement, as if a verbal slap to my face.

  She pulled up several videos on the screen of battles between Lebabolis and the Omegans. At first I thought it was a feed of some of the fighting we’d been into, but faces passed the screen and at one point I recognized Baudricort! The uniforms for Lebabolis looked different, older. Smoke billowed about the soldiers who charged around and fired on each other. In the middle of it was one woman, the Valkyrie. A chill ran through me when I realized why she was familiar. During my Verge, she was the one I had seen who led troops into battle.

  The clips showed a force of Omegans in a fight inside the borders of Lebabolis. The Valkyrie stepped about the field, shoulders broad and her head fixed on the scene like a hawk that regarded its prey with serene but laser like focus. She pointed and waved her arms about, directing her troops. They watched her and obeyed with no hesitation. She was calm, cool, even in the sea of destruction around her. I heard the voice who’d spoken to me say, “Across distances I’ve led you. With valor, strength and victory I’ve fed you. All evil in this world will dread you.”

  Charista’s face changed. Her scowl softened, and her eyes were stained with a mix of worry and regret. “Years ago the Omegans damaged the borders to Lebabolis and moved pretty far into the Sectors.” She eyed me. “We never had time to overhaul them; we were too busy with building back people and infrastructure.”

  She kept talking, but then I lost all attention to her when another clip played on screen.

  “Our army was well trained, but they were overrun. People were in a panic. Worker Products, and Intellectuals especially, aren’t accustomed to shows of force and having to defend themselves. They needed something... someone to lead them. The Valkyrie led our troops, but they also stood as a reminder that while we benefit from technology, the old ways are still with us and are always reliable.”

  I said, “I heard the bedtime stories about her. She and her forces held the Omegans off until Cataclysm finished the job. And you killed her for it.”

  Charista’s eyebrows arched. “Is that what you think of me? You think I’d take our greatest warrior ever and terminate her?”

  “See no reason to doubt it.”

  Charista shook her head. “You haven’t heard all of the story. The Valkyrie wanted to break Lebabolis apart, Ana. Harkson, the Coursons and I wanted to retain order.”

  “You mean slavery.”

  “I mean progress. Freedom can’t exist as anarchy. Without order, the weak fall; they always have. The Valkyrie wouldn’t listen to me or the Coursons. She also had the army on her side, so she was too dangerous to be left alone. I had to stand up to her, for the good of the people.”

  Charista’s face clenched. I wasn’t sure what happened to her, but she looked like she was in pain telling this story, as if she was being tortured. The usual hard glare I’d known her for was gone, and she looked more like a frightened animal in a trap.

  “The Valkyrie was our best and last hope against stopping the Omegans before we had Cataclysm. She had the attention and respect of Lebabolis. But that power went to her head, and she had to be stopped. She tried to shut down our facilities, but it ended up getting more people injured in the process. We just weren’t safe anymore with her around. She wanted freedom for all Products, but some of us weren’t convinced the Omegans were really gone. And we had no stability without order. If we were left to our own, things would have gone back to people destroying each other. Our system was tough, but in a world close to its end, sometimes order must come before freedom. Now I want to show you where you came from, Ana, because we need you. We need you and the Action, and you need us, even if you don’t realize it yet.

  “Ana, I’m desperate to stop the Omegans and we need your help. There, I said it.” She slid her fingers and moved them briskly about the controls. The screens switched to Product files and histories, and before I knew it, there was mine. My entire existence reduced to a single screen. The only thing that was blank was the parents. Those two fields were cleared out.

  “Your records have always been like this. I assume Baudricort wanted secrecy for you, like some of the others who fled to the Action. We eliminated his access for this once we learned what he had done, but not before he damaged a lot of records.”

  I thought back to his eyes as he lay there dying in my arms. Was he just sorry because he knew he was dying? No, my heart never accepted that. He got people out. That wasn’t Baudricort. Was it?

  Everything in me figured he wanted me protected by doing this. All of us in the Action knew we were doomed for Realignment if we got caught.

  “As I told you, the Action started out as training for our new army. We wanted to resurrect the Valkyrie. Once we learned the Omegans were assembling for another invasion, we knew time was short. Preparing Radomet takes too long, and we needed people who could be made ready much sooner.”

  The screen switched back to another profile record. I hadn’t seen this one before, but a glimpse of the face really resonated with me. It was the face of the woman I had in the Verge, the one on the videos.

  “The Valkyrie?” I asked.

  “Her name was Petra.” Her voice trembled just saying the name. The ember of emotion smoldering in Charista’s voice stunned me. It was the first time I heard anything from her other than the cold commanding tone that greeted me on the MODOSNet updates, or Product training speeches or even the dealings we had with her as part of the Action. We’d joked that her heart was just a mechanical device where emotion was as absent as water in a desert. To us she was a Radomet with well-hidden mechanical parts.

  But before I could ask about anything else, she continued. “Petra was the Valkyrie. We grew up together, two Warrior Products and friends. She led the army to victory against the Omegans. She was our protectress. I rose up too, but with the regular military. In time I had my own command. But the Valkyrie oversaw the Guard and the true elite of the Lebabolis strength.” She strained when she said the word ‘elite’, as if it bothered her that it hadn’t been applied to her or who she commanded.”

  Charista continued, “When a majority agreed we needed stronger controls, tighter security, Petra resisted. She refused to let Lebabolis go the way they were. She never understood the benefit of order for moving ahead. She insisted on freedom, but we’d seen the Outlands. That’s no more than chaos. A lot of people joined her; she had a lot of supporters. Some people can’t handle that kind of power. She became rash, reckless. We had a foothold of civilization in this world, and it soon became clear she would only jeopardize that.”

  “But then why the torture and Realignment?”

  “Only for order. People need direction and purpose. You think the Outlands are less harsh than Realignment? I suggest you spend more time out there. All the Outlands offer is blight and a slim chance of survival. You’ve been out there for a while now; do you really see that place offering anything other than chaos?

  “There’s more,” Charista said and hesitated. She watched me, her brow wrinkled. “Should I continue?”

  “I don’t know what you’re gonna say, so it’s up to you.”

  “Ana, we fought with Petra a lot over what she wanted. Before we stopped her, she went on raids trying to break our system from within. Those raids included attacks on facilities. She was so determined to break up Lebabolis, she lashed out, she and her troops. They stormed facilities, shut down things they could, and in all of this a lot of Lebabolis products were killed. Including, I’m afraid, your mother.”

  My body went taut at this. The Valkyrie killed Lebabolis products? But there it was: Petra blasted production facilities, and I noticed Sector Five, my home sector. And the woman who had my name laid out to rest.

  “I don’t understand. She was the Protectress. Why would she?”

  “Desperation. She lost her mind, Ana. She started out good. I knew her from little and she was the best we had to offer here, but later in her life she became something else. Intentions, however good, can get blurred with time. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, and I don’t know why Baudricort never did. I suppose he was too embarrassed about his own transgressions and for not taking better care of you.”

  “Baudricort started this?”

  “He was under strict orders from the Coursons to develop a weapon. He architected Cataclysm to stop the Omegans.”

  As she talked, Charista’s expression softened. I thought of the nomadic life the Action had, and even this location of the Range didn’t really offer much other than shelter. We had no structure, at best a haphazard one from Baudricort’s half crazed obsession with rescuing people from the mistake he’d created and given to our world.

  “I figured in time, once our reach was further, we could consider more freedom. But I care too much about the citizens of Lebabolis, of which you’re still one too, to let them flounder in self destruction.” Charista breathed a heavy sigh; her eyes were distant.

  The vision of Charista as a child seemed as odd to me as a third arm. I wondered how all this time she hadn’t managed to pull a coup and kill Harkson to take command of the Coursons and Lebabolis. If there was anything she wanted and liked and desired, it was power. She gravitated to it like no one else I ever knew.

  The more she talked about Petra, the more Petra sounded like Baudricort. Quite strong willed; made me wonder how he would’ve handled her. “So she was brought in for Realignment?”

  “That wasn’t an option back then. In fact we never had any other chance to convince or stop her. She broke out with the Guard when word was received a group of Omegans massed near our border, and Petra was never heard from again. We always assumed she was lost.”

  “So she wanted freedom, but instead of that you lay down an even tighter rein on people. How is that any better?” I asked. “The Valkyrie wanted to return the rule and the decisions to the people. Why isn’t that better than keeping people living like cattle, producing like pieces of machinery?”

  “In time, there could be more freedom, but we can’t consider that with the Omegans at our door. You really think we can drop everything with this army hell bent on raiding and ruining everything we’ve built to date? Dear Ana, you must consider the world Lebabolis developed in. Chaos was the rule, the strong devoured the weak. To leave any society to that kind of rule would be to just invite more problems among those who couldn’t defend themselves. Lebabolis has a mission to establish order, and that’s our goal.”

  I wondered if our plans to live free were really considered part of their deal. But I wasn’t about to let that thought slip into Charista’s cross hairs.

  Charista looked at me with sad eyes. “All I can say is when the Valkyrie was gone, I lost a friend and Lebabolis lost a great asset. We’ve stumbled down the road of progress, but it doesn’t mean we haven’t made a lot of great advances.

  “But now we need something. We’re protecting the future of Lebabolis, but we need help guarding its present. Jason and Kaitlinn command our field troops and the Coalition, and are keeping them at bay, but troops need a rally point. If anything, the Valkyrie taught us that having a champion is what spears soldiers on to win. We want you to be that champion for us.”

  “Me?”

  She nodded. “You’ve got respect of both the military and the people. You were a Worker Product who burst out and thrived. You even outfought Radomet. You showed how the Product system doesn’t always serve the best needs. Ana, we want you to be the Valkyrie. Deliver Cataclysm and lead our attack. We’ll have Kaitlinn make the troops ready for you so you can lead them into battle. Llewyn’s group is near the Range and he needs help. We need it to be you.”

  “I don’t know, what could I do?”

  “What you’ve been doing, what you’ve been trained to do, what you’ve always done... what’s in your heart. Show the Omegans that they can’t control this world and they won’t own us.”

  “But when we have Cataclysm?”

  “That’s our guarantee. The Valkyrie fought the Omegans to a standstill before Cataclysm finished them last time, and I know you can do it now. The peace will be ensured once we have Cataclysm.”

  I watched Treg. Leading the attack, the whole attack? How could I be expected to do this? All I had to go on were the words of someone who claimed to be the Valkyrie talking to me in my head.

  A few people rounded the corner with a small child. My eyes leapt to them and when I saw Varrick’s face, I froze. My throat seized up as if I were about to choke. My eyes brimmed with tears. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My breaths came too fast for words. My legs shook, but somehow I stayed on my feet and took an awkward step toward him. I squinted my eyes shut, and the tears dripped over my cheeks unchecked.

  “I kept my bargain.” Charista stood and watched Varrick as he ran and jumped into my arms.

  “Sister!”

  I kissed him and rubbed the back of his head, my voice in a full tremble. “Y-you’re OK?”

  “Uh huh.” His voice was bright, like he hadn’t recently been sick with a life threatening illness very recently.

  My arms snaked around his form and squeezed him tight while my body shook with sobs. I closed my eyelids and let the tears come. I didn’t have to be brave, I didn’t have to be strong. I felt like I hadn’t in many years.

  The warmth burst through me like rainfall. My body relaxed, and for a moment I wasn’t a leader of troops in the Coalition or even the Action, I wasn’t this fearsome soldier, this brutal machine with a Worker Product’s heart and a Warrior Product’s skill.

  And for that moment, I didn’t have to be either.

  I held my young brother and for just a moment I became a child again too. I let the feeling flow through me. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor. I opened my eyes and the tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t even care.

  He was OK.

  And with me.

  I watched his face, his smile, oh that smile I hadn’t seen in forever. I exhaled a sob as the weight of what I’d been through, and not knowing how Varrick was, was lifted in an instant. My heart ached as I wondered what to do so that this moment would last always.

  In an instant, what I’d been through, what we had left to do, was all worth it. Doubt melted away like ice in sunlight. A warm energy hit me, and I didn’t care where it came from, just that it felt like love returning to me as a river that flooded a dry oasis. I blinked back the tears, and my voice shook with all the agony of not having seen Varrick well, or even at all for so many months.

 

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