William Forstchen - Down to the Sea

“Yes.”

“And you felt nothing at his passing?”

Hazin smiled. “Nothing.”

Richard slowly nodded his head. “And this is the final fulfillment of what you sought?”

The smile did not change. “Only a start, Cromwell, and I will admit your leaving is a part in that game within a game.”

“Can I take Sean with me?” Richard asked abruptly.

“If he wants to go, but I doubt he will agree. In fact, he is in a cell just down the corridor. Go ask him yourself when you leave here.”

Hazin shook his head. “I know he won’t agree. Even if he did, it would make things difficult. I’m giving you a flyer. It’s been stripped down. I hope you are a good pilot, Cromwell. My master navigator says there isn’t enough fuel on board to get you all the way back, but that will no longer be my concern, only yours. For your sake I hope you find good winds aloft otherwise you will ultimately die alone at sea, though the creatures beneath should make short work of you.”

Richard felt a shiver of fear, again the primal terror of being devoured alive.

“There’s something you want me to do once I return home, isn’t there?”

“Just tell what you’ve seen.”

Richard shook his head. “I don’t understand. You know I will tell everything, alert my government, warn them of what you are, the threat you pose.”

“Oh, yes. Add in that in fairly short order you can expect our fleet off your coast. I have an audience with the new emperor later tonight and shall advise him to do just that, to attack immediately. I would say that by the next month we shall be off your coast. I can be persuasive when necessary, and I can assure you that he will agree.”

Richard turned away for a moment, utterly confused. “I don’t see any logic to this. If you struck by surprise….

He fell silent, not wishing to let Hazin hear his thoughts.

“Oh, yes, quite. I’ll tell you why, even. The civil war has ended, but we still need war. That is why I shall urge the emperor forward. Otherwise he shall have a fleet of eight battle cruisers, a hundred thousand sailors, fifty thousand assault troops, and they will have nothing to do but sit in their barracks and aboard their ships and ponder the new emptiness of their existence. Peace is death, Cromwell. It is war that is the creator.

“I can tell you now I will defeat your Republic.”

“Then why let me escape to your enemy?”

“Because it fits what I want. Don’t press any further. Tell me, Cromwell, do you take any glory from the killing of a defenseless pup, the crushing of an insect? No, that is forgotten in an instant. It is when the foe has steel that you find yourself, and hone your steel as well. My Shiv will thus be honed for greater tasks to come afterward. I want your Keane to see what is coming, to offer his best, and then to be defeated. That will crush his legend and build mine at the same time. It will even be said that I was fair in such things, noble even for offering an opponent a fair warning rather than striking stealthily with a knife in the back. After the first defeat in such a fight your side will then listen to reason rather than thrash on blindly and in defiant rage. Never comer an opponent, Cromwell. In their terror and rage they just might kill you even as they die. That was the mistake the Hordes of the north made, and that is why they were defeated while I shall win.”

Richard lowered his head. “Suppose I refuse to go.”

“You’ll go.”

Richard knew that Hazin was right. His desire for freedom would drive him forward regardless of whether it fit some plan of Hazin’s or not.

Hazin stood up and started for the door. “We’ll meet again someday, Cromwell. I suspect, if you survive the coming conflict, that you will rise quickly. In fact, I hope you do survive, for I would like to talk again someday.” Richard was stunned when Hazin, in a gesture that was uniquely human, extended his hand. Before Richard even knew what he was doing, he took it. The grip was dry, firm. Hazin released his hand and without a backward glance left the room, the door open.

A Shiv guard stood in the corridor, motioning for Richard to follow. Looking down at the floor, he saw streaks of blood, the type left when a bleeding body is dragged away.

The faint rotten-eggs smell of black powder smoke hung in the air, and as he walked down the corridor he saw a room with a door open. Inside, two humans, emaciated, dressed only in loincloths, were mopping up a pool of blood. At the end of the corridor the Shiv led Richard to another room. Opening it, he was surprised by the comfort within. Tapestries of silk covered the wall, a comfortable bed covered with cushions was in the center of the room, and he detected a feminine scent in the air.

Sean O’Donald lay on the bed, eyes closed, features peaceful.

Richard rushed into the room and shook him awake. Sean looked up dreamily and then with a look of surprise. “Richard. Hazin said you would visit me.”

“Come on, O’Donald. We’ve been freed. We’re getting out now. Tonight.”

Sean smiled, and Richard instantly realized that he was either drunk or drugged. “You go. I’m staying.”

Richard looked back at the door. “Damn it, Sean, we don’t have time for this,” he hissed. “Hazin’s letting us go, at least I think he is. Get dressed and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Sean sat up and stretched, and Richard suddenly realized that concealed beneath the covers was someone else. Wisps of black hair spread out on the pillow. She half rolled over, the cover slipping away from her shoulder, revealing her beauty. Her amber-colored eyes met his, and he felt a cold shiver.

He forced his attention away, focusing back on Sean. “Now, O’Donald. We’re getting out of here.”

“And like I said before, I’m staying.”

“Because of her?”

“In part.”

“How long have you known her, a day? Three days? Damn it, Sean, you can’t give up everything just for a girl you met three days ago.”

Sean’s features darkened. “Give up what, Cromwell? Tell me, what does the Republic have to offer me after what I have found here?”

“Honor,” Richard snapped.

Sean leaned back and laughed, turning to look at the girl, who smiled at his amusement.

“Honor? How many millions died on both sides in the last war, a war created by Keane and my father? Was that honor? And they’ll do it again. No, thank you. I tried their path. A country run by someone like my father can go to hell.”

Sean reached forward and grabbed Richard by the arm. “Stay here. You don’t understand Hazin as I do. What he offers to all of us who join him.”

“And what is that?” Richard asked bitterly.

“Order. He could unify us all, Richard, Horde and human. We would sweep the world without the type of bloodshed my father helped to create. He offers a dream, and I am willing to be part of it.”

Richard pulled his hand away and stood up. “Get on your feet, Lieutenant,” he snarled, trying desperately to somehow break through and reach him. “I’ve got an aerosteamer waiting.”

He looked over defiantly at the woman, who had sat up in the bed. Her smile was almost bemused, as if Richard was just a minor interruption.

Richard reached over to grab Sean and pull him out of bed.

“I wouldn’t try it,” Sean hissed. “You might be able to beat me, but I think the Shiv out there would not go along with it.”

Richard looked back at the open door, where half a dozen Shiv waited.

“They aren’t human,” Richard whispered. “They’re bred like horses, like cattle.”

He said the last word deliberately, for it was the darkest of insults left over from the war.

“She’s of the Shiv,” Sean said, anger darkening his features.