Anne Winchell - The Last War

Nalia shook her head. Medane hadn’t refused, and that gave her hope. She braced herself, hoping that her next words wouldn’t be her last. She needed to earn Medane’s trust if she wanted his help, and there was only one way to do that, even if it cost Nalia her life. “There won’t be a protest, because I am Galley.”

If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Medane would have been amused at Raven’s cleverness. The boy had promised to bring the díamont to Medane and he had done so when he brought Nalia. Raven had just neglected to mention that Nalia was the díamont. Medane had wondered how Raven could break a promise the way that he had, but now Medane understood that Raven hadn’t broken anything, as usual. Honesty and virtue were Raven’s most endearing qualities, and were the reason Medane didn’t immediately kill the girl.

She was a díamont, yes, but she was also a friend of Raven’s. She was here, in Medane’s office, putting herself at his mercy in order to ask for help. As much as Medane wanted to kill her or do something to prevent her from leading future attacks, he understood how much of a sacrifice she was making by coming here. She expected death, but she was willing to die if it meant helping Raven. A person capable of that kind of compassion could not turn into a monster like Soren, Medane thought. Especially if Raven were in love with her. Díamont or not, Medane couldn’t bring himself to harm someone that Raven held in such high regard. He was not going to kill Nalia.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m expected,” a voice said from outside Medane’s office before a young man burst in, followed by Medane’s flustered assistant. The man looked at Medane curiously and opened his mouth to speak, probably to introduce himself, but he caught sight of Nalia and stopped. The man grinned and approached her instead.

“I see I’m in the right place. You must be Nalia,” and he swept up the girl’s hand into a kiss. “Raven told me about you.”

At the sound of Raven’s name, both Nalia and Medane relaxed. Medane gestured for his assistant to leave the room and examined the stranger. Medane recognized him as Raven’s friend, although they had never met before. Medane had seen the two of them together several times over the years. The man was older than Raven but his dark brown hair didn’t have a trace of gray, and the wrinkles around his eyes were clearly from smiling rather than age. Mid-thirties, perhaps, Medane thought. Old compared to Raven, perhaps, but still a child compared to Medane.

“And you must be Medane,” the man said, nodding politely. “My name is Scott. Raven sent me here to ask for your help.”

“Whose help?” Nalia asked sharply.

“Well, Medane’s help,” Scott said. “I don’t think he knew you would be here. He’s in trouble, he just contacted me.”

The girl sniffled and looked to be on the verge of tears. Medane could imagine how much courage it had taken for her to come to him for help, and knowing that Raven had contacted someone else must be heart breaking.

“Where is he?” Medane asked.

“He’s in the West. He said Atheus had him. That’s all he had time to say,” Scott added to Nalia. “I couldn’t even respond; it was such a brief message.”

Medane let out a deep breath and walked to the front of his desk. The other two watched him and he wondered how far they were willing to go to save Raven. Medane would do anything and if Raven really were in Atheus’ hands, there was no choice but to help him. But leaving the Eastern World at a time like this could prove disastrous. The moon had started communications again and tension between the world governments was at an all-time high. Interfering in Atheus’ plans now was almost certain to cause a fight, perhaps even a war.

“If we can find Raven and get him to the Canadian embassy in Quebec,” Medane said, “then Atheus won’t be able to attack. Atheus cannot know that I’ve left the East. If he does…”

Medane’s voice faded and he thought of Sydney after the first attack of the Last War, of Vancouver, of all the cities destroyed. Surely Atheus wouldn’t unleash that kind of devastation just because Medane rescued Raven. No, Medane assured himself, Atheus might have become corrupt, but he would never actually kill people. And once Raven was under Lethe’s protection in Quebec, there was nothing Atheus could do to harm him.

“I can leave NeoLondon for a few days, and I can help you locate and rescue Raven,” Medane said. The other two looked relieved, although Nalia still seemed to be harboring resentment. Medane didn’t blame her and wondered whether or not they would ever be able to trust each other. If he was to leave NeoLondon undefended, however, he needed that trust.

“Will there be attacks on NeoLondon?” he asked Nalia directly.

She looked angry, then frightened, then shook her head. “No. Not if I go with you.”

Medane nodded and looked at Scott. “I’m glad Raven has such close friends.” He gestured to both Scott and Nalia in an attempt to prevent hurting her feelings more. “We need to leave immediately. We can take my private plane.”

He was about to ask if they needed any clothes or supplies when he realized that both Nalia and Scott had come with small backpacks. Clearly they were ready to leave. Medane asked his assistant to gather a few things for him and led them to the landing pad on the top floor. Normally he would ask a pilot to fly them, but he wanted as few people as possible to know about his absence so Medane planned on flying himself.

Hopefully Scott and Nalia could figure out where in the Western World Raven was before they got near the border. Probably in the north hemisphere, close to the United Western World’s capital in old Washington DC. They would need to land the plane somewhere out of the way, find Raven, and fly to Quebec before Atheus realized they were in his territory. Otherwise, it would take months or even years to undo the political damage between the world governments.

Raven checked the scope on the rifle again and glanced at Kaela. He wasn’t sure why Atheus was letting them work together to prepare for the assassination but he wasn’t going to complain. Raven had already taken advantage of the computers in the room to send a silent distress signal to Scott, assuming he were looking for it. Scott would need to be nearby, within a hundred miles, before he would be able to detect the signal but it would lead Scott and hopefully Medane straight to Raven’s location. Kaela was on the computer now, scanning for the best position to shoot. The candidate would be giving a speech in front of the old White House soon. The area had only low buildings, none more than fifteen stories high, and while security would be heightened for the speech, no one expected an assassination attempt.

“Here’s one,” Kaela said, pointing to a corner building with a clear shot of where the podium would be.

“I guess that would work.”

Kaela must have heard the misery and defeat in his voice because she walked over to him and laid her hands on his shoulders.

“I know it’s hard,” she said softly. “Gleeman—the candidate—isn’t exactly a wonderful guy. He takes bribes like everyone else and he supports the Brazilian militia, which you know has killed over 200 civilians in the past year alone.”

Gleeman. Raven had felt better before he knew the man’s name. Such a strange name, too, clearly a public name rather than a private one, and not a name one would choose for an assassination target. He knew what Kaela was trying to do and he appreciated it, but it wasn’t enough to have her tell him that the man was corrupt. Always before, Raven had physical, incontrovertible evidence proving the wrongdoing of the person he was killing. In every case, there was clear proof that killing this one individual would save the lives of hundreds of others. But Raven had never heard of this Gleeman before and had no way of knowing whether Kaela’s words were true.